Defeating Evil with Pea Coats and Algebra 2 Books
by italian-hipster
Summary: The Avengers Initiative, starring an egotistical hottie, a man with serious anger issues, a 70-year-old 20-year-old who had a fine piece of ass, her big sissy, her big sissy's BFF, and a fucking god. A , SHIELD. The ginger teen shook her head full of wild curls. She couldn't have done it better herself.
1. Prologue: The Beginning

"Wait wait wait," the young girl said, shaking her head full of wild russet hair. "You're saying that I actually get to come with you? Like, on an actual mission?!"

A slender woman sighed as she finished piling clothes into a bag. "Yes, you get to come with me, but only because it's too dangerous to stay here." The young girl whispered "Exciting!" into the air. Then, as an afterthought, the woman looked over at the teenager and said, "As long as you do all of your independent study work."

The girl looked over at the woman, her eyes wide and pleading.

"Your puppy dog eyes won't work on me, Zina."

Zina grumbled as she slumped down on an office chair next to a dark cherry desk. "But Nat," she groaned, "I'm going to be surrounded by paid assassins and secret government agents!" She started spinning in the chair. "How on earth do you expect me to do Algebra 2 homework?!" Nat opened her mouth to say something when the girl interrupted her. "Speaking of that," she said, stopping her chair by sliding her foot across the carpeted floor, "Who's all gonna be there?" She started spinning yet again. "Obviously Director Fury, since he's, like, in charge of the whole world. What about that Hill lady? She kinda scares me."

Natasha Romanoff snorted at this, zipping up her dark duffel bag. "Agent Hill is stoic, Zina, not scary."

"Speak for yourself," Zina said incredulously. "She probably knows 47 different ways to kill someone with a spork!" She stopped spinning on her chair again, looking thoughtful. "Oh wait - that's you."

The woman half-heatedly glared at her younger sister. She walked out of her master bedroom and into the entry way. "I know 56 , actually," she called out, setting her duffle on the small dining table.

Zina's hazel eyes widened behind her thick rimmed Ray Bans at this new found information. She sighed and lightly shook her head, walking over to her sisters large bed and flopped down onto the plush comforter. "Remind me again how we are related."

"Well," Nat started, strolling back into her room and over to the bed, "One night around Christmas Eve, mama and papa got really drunk on rum. One thing led to another, and-"

"I didn't mean literally!" Zina threw a pillow off of the bed at her sister, who blocked it easily, chuckling.

"Whatever, _сестра_," Natasha said, chuckling. The two sat in comfortable silence until Zina slid off of her sister's bed and padded over to the tall bookshelf. "Are you all packed?" she inquired as she watched her sister gaze up at the tall bookshelf on the opposite wall.

Zina reached for a book, looking at the cover and shrugging. She tossed it on her sister's bed as she reached for another. Natasha peeked at the title:_ The Lion, The Witch, And The Wardrobe_. "Almost," Zina said, putting _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_ on top of the other book. "I just have to get some books for recreational reading, considering all I might be doing is sitting in a room with no windows or doors, cut off from the rest of civilization." Zina grabbed two books this time, weighing _The Hound of Baskerville_ and _Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix_ in her hands. Her eyes flickered between the two, brows furrowed. After a few moments, she shrugged, and tossed both of them on the growing pile of hardbacks. "I also need to make sure I have all of my school stuff together so I can do my independent study work." She set _An Abundance Of Katherines_ on top of the others. "Then, I have to pack my clothes and toiletries and everything else I need to survive. So actually, I'm not really ready - Oh my god, Natasha Romanoff, why do we even have this piece of garbage in this apartment?!" Zina asked, holding up the thick black book _Twilight_ close to her sister's face. Natasha plucked the book, quick as lightning, from Zina's fingers and clutched close to her chest.

"Because I like it," Natasha stated, glaring at Zina as she flipped through the pages.

"Maybe you should fill your brain with some actual literature!" Zina carried the pile of books out of her sister's room and into her own down the hall. Natasha could hear her sister rifling around in the other room. She got up off of her bed and walked over to her desk, sliding her hand along the bottom until she felt a smooth, small button. She glanced at her bedroom doorway, checking if Zina was approaching, and deciding the ghost was clear. Silently, she pushed the button and suddenly a drawer slid open from the dark wood. As she snatched up her SHIELD I.D. and pistol, Zina suddenly called out a question from her own room. "Hey Nat, is Clint gonna be there?"

Natasha stopped moving, her automatic pistol halfway in its holster upon her hip. Her chocolate eyes became unfocused, blankly staring at the cream colored wall. When would she tell her sister about Clint? Clint Barton, who had only ever missed one of Zina's wind ensemble concerts and took the teenage ginger out to the local Mexican food joint, who he claimed to have the best chips and salsa on the planet, every time he came to visit. Clint Barton, SHIELD agent and expert archer who spared Natasha's life, and convinced Nick Fury to recruit her, and allow the four year old Zina to stay on SHIELD premises with her older sister.

"Natasha, did you hear me?"

The redhead was pulled out of her transfixed state, slipping her pistol securely in its holster without missing a beat. She grabbed her SHIELD I.D. off of her desk and clipped it onto her collar. "Umm," she called, hesitant. "I'm not really sure." She slipped on her black wedge boots and zipped up her matching jumpsuit so it reached her collar bone. "You'll have to ask Coulson," she called back.

Zina suddenly appeared in the doorway, one Doc Martin missing from her left foot, and her old Blink 182 tee half way down her shoulder. She was smiling toothily, though she looked disheveled. "Coulson is gonna be there?" she asked excitedly.

Natasha was glad Zina hadn't noticed her hesitant answer. She rolled with the punches, fluffing her hair while glancing at Zina curiously. "Of course," she explained slowly. "Agent Coulson is right behind Director Fury in command."

Zina whooped and jumped in the air like a war had just been won. Her hair flew in every direction and her shirt rose a few inches, revealing her slightly pudgy stomach.

Natasha looked extremely confused. Her perfectly plucked eyebrows were knitted together, and her mouth was slightly ajar. "What... Are," she paused, "Are you _excited_?!"

"Uhh, duh!" Zina exclaimed, still smiling, hiking up her shoulder as her t-shirt slid back up to her collar bone. "Phil is _awesome_!"

Natasha's eyebrows rose in surprise. "_Phil_? Since when is he _Phil_?"

Zina composed her self, adjusting her glasses on her nose. She lifted her left leg and fixed her left shoe back onto her foot. "You know," she remarked cheekily, "You don't have to look so surprised."

Natasha quickly put her facial expression in check, taking up her characteristic pursed lips and aloof demeanor. Zina chuckled, and padded back to her room. Nat quickly trailed after her, still insistingly questioning her sister. "Why is he Phil, again?"

"Because I'm pretty sure that's his first name," Zina replied smartly, strolling through her bedroom door. When she noticed Natasha didn't follow her in, she popped her head back into the hall. Her sister was glaring at her, hands resting on her hips. Zina rolled her eyes and her russet curls disappeared back into her room. "Don't get your throwing knives in a knot, Natasha."

Natasha walked into Zina's room and sat herself down on the vintage armchair near the wall of books. She daintily crossed her long, lean legs, determination written all over her face. "So, about Agent Coulson."

Zina heavily placed her World History textbook atop her Algebra 2 one, which sat on her quilted comforter. "Phil Coulson is practically God, Nat," she said matter-of-factly, walking over to her open closet. She plucked shirts and sweaters from different colored hangers, and set about to folding each one. "He could find out what I ate five years ago on the second of May, 6:31 p.m." Zina strolled over to her tall oak dresser and pulled out about a dozen pair of jeans. She went to folding them, and placing them atop her tops, which she had already placed in her large suitcase. "He knows everything about everyone."

Natasha plucked a book from her sisters bookshelf, which covered an entire wall. It was an old one, its binding coming undone and the edge of the pages frayed. She flipped through the pages, not really reading a word the book had to offer. "You do know that he knows more ways to kill you with a spork than I do," Natasha informed casually, dark eyes scanning a yellowed page.

"That what makes him so cool," Zina explained, stuffing shoes into her suitcase. "He eats cheap Italian takeout food by day, and kicks supervillan ass by night!" She struggled to zip her bulging suitcase closed, hopping on her bed and sitting on the lid, tugging at the zipper. She looked over to her lighter haired sister. "Its the ultimate double life!"

Natasha shook her head and rolled her eyes "Well, its a good thing you like him," she said, placing the book on the arm of the plush chair and walking over to Zina, who was still fighting the zipper. "Because you'll be staying with him for the night."

"Marvelous!" Zina proclaimed, slipping off of her suitcase and lading of her floor, having finally achieved the struggle of zipping her suitcase. She now attempted to pull her suitcase off of her bed, but her effort was for naught. She helplessly looked over to Natasha, who rolled her eyes and pulled the suitcase off of the bed in one tug. She then proceeded to haul it out of Zina's room and into the entryway.

"Thanks," Zina called out, piling her 'recreational reading' in her arms and heading toward the front room, where Natasha was with both of their luggage.

Zina set her books on the mahogany dining table. It joined her plush flannel pillow, bright pink backpack, and school binder. Under the plastic cover was her school schedule, which included English 10 Honors and Advanced World History. A photograph was also situated in one corner. Sweatered arms stretched from the two bottom corners to a young girl with long, tousled rust-coloured hair. Her eyebrows were raised and her hazel eyes were wide behind thick rimmed spectacles. She was smiling widely with her mouth open, looking as if she were exclaiming a battle cry. A muscled arm draped across her shoulders, which connected to a man in his late thirties. His dirty-blonde hair was cut marine-style, and one eyebrow was raised in consideration. A piece of curly russet hair, belonging to the teenage girl, was stuck between his nose and upper lip, which was scrunched up to keep the hair in place. On the other side of the girl was a woman. She had the same shaped nose as the girl and the same does eyes, but other than that, there was hardly any resemblance between the two. The woman was thinner, and her hair lighter and shorter, falling just below her chin. Her black jumpsuit was zipped to her collarbone, just like it always was, and her full, pink lips were turned lightly upward. She looked slightly out of place in the photograph, appearing quaint while the two people next to her had comical and absurd looks.

Zina picked up her binder thoughtfully, tracing the photograph over the plastic cover. "If I'm staying with Phil, where are you going?" she inquired, turning to her older sister.

"I have to go collect someone," she said quietly, gracefully slipping into one of the chairs around the dining table.

"Oooh," Zina said, enlightened. "More super spy stu-"

The doorbell suddenly rang, both siblings looking towards the apartment's front door. Zina grinned widely. "Yes!" she exclaimed, pumping her fist in the air. "Phil is here!"

Natasha huffed, pushing her sister lightly on the shoulder. "Go make sure you have everything."

"But I just-"

"Go."

Zina glared at the woman, and defiantly said, "Fine." She trotting back down the hall, entering her room, her soft pink walls slightly clashing with forest green of her carpet. Pictures of male celebrities covered one wall and part of her ceiling, while another was piled high with books.

Zina heard a door open, and then close. Natasha's voice was flat and uninterested. "Agent Coulson, good afternoon."

Coulson's voice was exactly that same. "Agent Romanoff, the same to you."

Zina glanced around her room, snatching up little things here and there that she had forgotten to pick up previously. She grabbed her iPhone charger, astonished that she almost left without it, and stuck it in her purse, along with two extra pads and a tampon. She glanced at the Doctor Who calendar on the back of her bedroom door. A small red dot was drawn in the square two days from then. Zina grimaced, and quickly reached in purse for a tampon. She held it up to the calendar, shaking it lightly. "You did this to me!" she whispered angrily. "I'm going to be in a super secret Area 51-like environment, chilling with extra special government people, and the last thing I need are over exaggerated emotions and a jackhammer nailing me in the lower stomach!" The Raggedy Doctor and his two companions continued to run from destruction towards her, unfazed. Zina hesitated, continuing her glare and the calendar, and promptly sighed, putting the tampon back in her purse. She glared at the picture of The Doctor, The Legs, and The Nose. "Rory, I blame you."

Zina glanced once more around her room, and, satisfied, flipped off the light and walked out of her door and around the corner.  
She wasn't really paying any attention to the two voices in the entryway as she walked down the hall. She was about to turn the corner into the front room when Coulson's voice made her stop.

"Have you told her about Agent Barton yet?"

Zina froze, her hair swinging from the sudden stop.

There was a short pause, and then Natasha spoke. "No. No, I haven't."

Zina slowly backed further into the hallway, still intently listening.

"I highly recommend you do so. Soon."

"I am aware, Agent Coulson."

"May I ask when-"

"It'll happen, Coulson," came Natasha's gritted reply.

Zina wasn't sure how long she lingered on the hallway, but soon enough, she snapped out of her frozen stupor, deciding she better walk in on the scene before anyone's neck got snapped. She inhales and exhales deeply, hauls her purse higher on her shoulder, and struts into the room.

"Hey, Philly Cheese Steak!" She rounded the corner into the entryway, smiling. Her russet hair reached the small of her back in a waterfall, and swung animatedly as she skipped over to Agent Phil Coulson.

Agent Coulson was in his signature suit, dark sunglasses in one hand and the other behind his back. His face was lined from years of secrets and dangerous encounters, and his stony features showed no emotion; his thin lips formed a straight line, steel blue eyes, unblinking. He abandoned the staring contest between Natasha and himself, eyes becoming unfocused, apparently deep in thought.  
He stayed that for a moment, brows furrowed. Zina looked from him, to Natasha, and back again. Her toothy smile faded slightly. "What,"

she asked slowly, eyes flickering between the two adults. "Did I say something wrong?"

Coulson's eyes seemed to focus, and he blinked a few times, gaining his bearings. He straightened out his suit jacket, brushing off a few nonexistent specs of dust off of his shoulder, and looked at the young girl, slightly smiling. "No, nothing." He turned and grabbed her large suitcase off of the dining table. "Nothing at all." He looked at her once again, sliding on his pitch glasses. "Ready?"

"Of course!" Zina exclaimed. She turned to her older sister and grinned up at her. "See you soon, sissy."

Natasha's smooth features softened slightly, and she embraced her sister. "You bet."

The hug ended, and Coulson had already opened the front door, revealing a black SUV at the curb.

Zina glanced outside at the car and shook her head. "Black," she mumbled, exasperated. "Why is it always black?"

She started out the door and to the sidewalk, trailing behind Coulson, who was carrying her large suitcase. Zina opened the front passenger door when her sister called out, "Behave yourself, Vincenzina Romanoff."

Zina turned around and gave her sister, who was standing in the apartment doorway, a lazy two fingered salute. "Always am." She slipped in the dark car, rolling down the window and waving at her sister as the car sped down the suburban street. Once they were around the corner, Zina turned to Coulson. "So, still have those trading cards?"

* * *

**A/N: Okaaaayyyy so I have updated this chapter, mainly because I didn't like it. Ugh. Anyway, in case you didn't know, this story if going to go along the plot line of ****_The Avengers_**** (the film), just with an extra character added in! I hope you guys liked it a lot better than the previous version! And just to let you all know, this story is most definitely NOT abandoned! I have just been so busy with school and traveling and things of that sort. But I already have the next four chapters done, and I'll be posting them within a couple of days. I do apologize for my absence, and I'll try to update at least once every two days. Since the wait has been exceptionally long, I have another chapter for you! :D**

**Please review and tell me how you like it! I hope I do the characters justice, and if I make any mistakes, please tell me! constructive criticism is most welcome!**

**~Z**


	2. Smells Like Teen Spirit

**A/N: Omg Tony Stark sassy-ness.**

* * *

Zina gazed at her altered reflection in the chrome elevator walls. Her clothes were twisted and her hair was mused after the seven hour drive from her and Natasha's apartment to the big and bright New York City. Quiet jazz played while her and Coulson stood in comfortable silence. She glanced at the numbers on top of the sliding door; the arrow slowly traveled from 5 to 6 to 7, and so on.

Once the arrow reached 17, Zina spoke. "Am I going to get arrested?"

Coulson's face became confused, but he continued to stare at the reflective door. "Of course not. Why would you even ask?"

"You kind of over-rode his security system!" Zina pointed out. "Maybe I am with you, but Tony Stark doesn't know who _I_ am!"

Coulson pursed his lips and took our his smartphone. "You'll be fine," he said calmly.

Zina's mouth dropped open, her hands limp at her side, one of them loosely holding onto a book. "Are- are you kidding me?" She said, her hazel eyes growing wide. "I will most likely get sent to prison and that just can't happen!" She held up the book to Coulson's face, which he pointedly ignored. "Do you even _know_ how hard it is to coherently read Hamlet, let alone if I was in prison?!"

The middle aged agent took his time dialing a number on his black phone, and put the device to his ear, obviously ignoring the teen's rant. One could hear the faint sound of the receiver.

"Phil- Phil Coulson, oh my god, are you listeni-"

Coulson suddenly put a hand up to quiet the young girl.

No longer able to talk to Agent Phil Coulson, Zina began to talk quietly to herself. "Oh my god, Phil, you fucking _jerk_. I am so done. Done! D-O-N-E, you understand? Who do you even think you are? Oh, yeah: God."

This earned a heated glare from the agent.

Zina heard the receiver stop ringing and listened intently as Coulson began to speak. "Stark, we need to talk."

The faint, overly official voice from the phone replied, "You have reached the life-model decoy of Tony Stark. Please leave a message."

"This is urgent."

"Then leave it urgently."

Zina snickered at this comment, but immediately stopped when the elevator doors opened.

Zina peered around the body of Agent Coulson to look into the room, and the sight caught her breath.

Four steps led from the elevator to the grey tiled floor, which glistened from the huge fire in the enormous fireplace to her left, and from the lights coming in from the windows (well, actually, it was a wall of windows) of nighttime New York. To her right was a wrap-around bar with a marble countertop and dozens of drinks that Zina probably didn't even know existed.

Her eyes focused back on the situation when Coulson slipped his phone back into his pocket and she heard a male voice say "Security breach, its on you!"

_Oh my god, it's him_.

"Phil, come in," said a kind female voice that Zina didn't recognize.

"Phil?" said the iconic voice in an annoyed tone.

"We can't stay," Coulson said simply.

"We're celebrating," said the woman's voice.

"Which is why he can't stay, actu- wait, what do you mean 'we'?"

Suddenly, Coulson stepped into the penthouse, revealing the teenager to the public, which Zina was totally not mentally prepared for.

Zina was pretty sure she stopped breathing, and brain went into overdrive. '_Shit shit shit Coulson where are you going what am I even going to say if Tony Stark egotistical sassy hottie billionaire talks to me oh my god my life is over I am so going to prison all because of fucking Coulson like seriously what the fuuuuuuuu_-'

Her internal rant of self pity made her miss the question that was asked to her, and now everyone was staring at her and she didn't know why. _Shit._

Zina looked from Coulson to Stark, to his glowing arc reactor, to the tall, thin strawberry blonde woman in cut off shorts. "I missed something, didn't I?"

"Who the hell are you?" Tony Stark asked blatantly.

The lady hit his bicep. '_His large, sexy bicep_,' Zina thought to herself. Then another thought entered her mind '_Oh god, I hope no one here can read minds_.'

"God, Tony, don't be rude." said the tall woman.

"No, no, its okay," Zina explained to the woman. "I would ask the same thing if an overweight teenage ginger wearing a Blink 182 tee, leggings, and Doc Martens walked into my tower penthouse uninvited with a secret government agent." Zina glanced at Coulson, whose expression was a clear representation of a metaphorical facepalm. Zina sighed. Nice going, asshat.

"Oh, umm..." The woman's paused, brows furrowed and she glanced at Zina's feet, then back to her face. "Okay."

The four of them were launched into an immense awkward silence. Zina prayed to the SHIELD gods that Coulson would get her out of this one. Awkward silences were his specialty.

Luckily, her prayers were answered, and Coulson cleared his throat. "Stark, Miss Potts, this is-"

"I'm Vincenzina," she said, cutting Coulson off. "Pronounced 'Vin-CHEN-zeena'. It's Italian, which is weird, 'cause the rest of my family is Russian." She hopped down the four steps and onto the large grey tiles. Her dark eyebrows rose and she looked at Stark. "Oh, and I have a sister. You might know her."

Tony Stark's dark walnut eyes pierced through Zina with so much intensity and consideration, she thought lazer beams might come out of his pupils. After about a minutes of his soul-seeing gaze, his furrowed brows smoothed out, and then rose in surprise. "You're Natasha Romanoff's sister."

"Ding ding ding," Zina smiled, which looked more like a grimace. "Gold star."

"Oh, well, now that that's settled," Miss Potts walked over to Zina, "Pepper Potts," she said kindly, holding out her dainty hand. "Nice to meet you, Miss Romanoff."

"Likewise," Zina said politely, shaking the woman's hand. The two females looked at one another, each considering their next move.

Miss Potts was the first to break eye contact, tearing her royal blue spheres away from Zina's hazel ones, and focusing on Agent Coulson. "It's good to see you, Phil," she informed the stoic agent, her bright teeth shining. Coulson smiled in return, a bit more relaxed-looking than usual.

"You too, Miss Potts."

"_Phil_?" Anthony Stark asked incredulously, making Zina startle. She had almost forgotten where she was and who she was with while gazing out the wall-spanning window.

She had lost herself in the bright and bustling New York City. She could see Times Square from the hight of the penthouse, the giant McDonald's sign and Darren Criss' face reflecting in her abnormally large glasses. Zina saw miniature ant-taxis and other whizzing every which way, and the thousands and millions of pedestrians bustling about their lives. _Their normal lives_, she thought, feeling the smallest amount of envy bubble in her gut.

But then Tony Stark opened his mouth, and Zina hurtled back to real life.

"Yeah, uhh, his first name is 'Agent'." Stark said as he hurried over to Pepper and Agent Coulson. Zina laughed audibly at that comment, and soon enough, three pairs of eyes were on her yet again. _Wow, twice in one night. That must be a new record for awkward stares, Zina._

She pulled at the hem of her shirt awkwardly. "It- like- that was funny," she finally spit out after stumbling over her words.

Coulson saved the day yet again.

"Stark, this is for you." Coulson said as he reached to give Stark a black file with a SHIELD watermark. "SHIELD need you to look these over."

Stark put his not-champagne-glass-holding hand out to stop Coulson from handing him the folders. "Official consulting hours are between eight and five every other Thursday," he looked at the object being shoved at him in disdain. "And I don't like being handed things," he said as if it were the most obvious answer to any question ever. Like, you could ask "What's the answer to the universe and everything" and any normal person who knew anything would say "Tony Stark doesn't like being handed things". That was how he said it.

"Well, this works out nicely," Miss Potts said, grinning, "because I love being handed things." She smiled at Coulson sweetly as they traded the files for the wine glass. She then proceeded to trade off with Stark, handing him the files and plucking the glass from his hand. "Thank you," she said cutely, downing the liquid. Tony Stark glared at the thing in his hands, and began waling to a counter with a thick glass top. "Is this about the Avengers Initiative?" Miss Potts asked suddenly. Then she must've realized what she said, because her eyes grew wide and she started stuttering. "Wh-which I know no-nothing about, by the way."

Zina's ears perked up at the mention of the Avengers Initiative. She had heard Natasha talk about it once or twice in passing, and had maybe-sort of browsed through the manilla files on Coulson's car dashboard this one time when Nat was out on an assignment and she had to stay with him. The Avengers Initiative, starring an egotistical hottie, a man with serious anger issues, a 70-year-old 20-year-old who had a fine piece of ass, her big sissy, her big sissy's BFF, and a fucking god. A+, SHIELD.

"Phffff, the Avengers Initiative was scrapped, I thought," Tony said, placing the files on the counter. He looked back at Miss Potts and Coulson, an annoyed look adorning his face. "And I didn't even qualify!"

"I didn't know that either," Miss Potts pointed out, which to Zina, it was painfully obvious that she did.

"Yeah," Stark continued, skimming over the file. "Apparently I'm volatile, self obsessed, don't play well with others, and-"

Miss Potts smiled innocently. "That I did know."

Tony Stark looked up from the file he had just been given and continued to talk like Miss Potts hadn't interrupted him. "-And what is Vin-sin-whatever doing here anyway because like, seriously, are you for real Natasha Romanoff's little sis?"

Zina looked up from her game of Fruit Ninja (where she was just about to beat her high score, by the way) like a deer in headlights. "What?"

"Are you legitimately related to Natasha Romanoff?"

Zina hesitated, tucking a stray piece of unruly hair behind her ear and pushing her glasses further up her nose. "Uhh, yeah. We're related."

"But, like..." Stark struggled for the right words. "How?"

"I ask myself that everyday, Mr. Stark."

Zina saw Tony grin at that, so she assumed she must have said something right.

"So, Vin-sin-whatevs, you have a nickname?"

Zina realized she was having an actual conversation with this man, and wanted to make it last. "Yeah, it's Zina."

Tony looked up from the files and grinned. "Like the warrior princess!"

"Uhh..." Zina was used to getting this. Although, she honestly hated the connection people made. "It's spelled differently," she explained. "Z-I-N-A instead of X-E-N-A."

"Whatever." And their conversation ended there. "Miss Potts, got a minute?"

Pepper Potts walked across the room to stand beside Tony Stark, leaving Zina and Coulson semi-alone, considering they were all in the same room. But it was a very large room.

"Well," Zina started, "that was sufficiently awkward."

Coulson eyed the teen and smirked. "You brought it upon yourself."

"Fuck off."

After Pepper and Tony's four minute long semi-private conversation (Coulson shielded Zina's eyes from their little not-really-whispering-but-actually-kissing thing), they were all ready to leave the magnificent penthouse. Coulson had agreed to drop Miss Potts at the airport on the way to his apartment, and the two walked towards the elevator.

Zina and Tony Stark shook hands, his tanned skin clashing with her pale hand. "It's been a pleasure, warrior princess." He grinned lazily, pulling his large hand back to the side of his pants.

"Same," was all Zina could think to say, Stark's arc reactor slightly illuminating her face. She smiled up at him, her inside-voice going crazy. _I just touched Tony Stark like I just shook hands with him OH MY GOD what even is this life._

"Zina, are you coming?"

She turned to see Coulson and Miss Potts waiting in the elevator. Zina's checked flushed a light pink in embarrassment, and she trotted over to the open elevator doors. A sudden thought struck her mind, and she almost fell on her ass trying to stop her momentum.

"Mr. Stark, I have one question."

Tony turned back to the teenage girl, amusement evident on his handsome features. "9.9 times out of ten, I will have an answer, so shoot."

"Am I going to get arrested, Mr. Stark?" Zina blurted.

The amusement flashed to confusion, then back to the quirked brow and the half-smile. "Only if you keep on calling me Mr. Stark." He started walking back to the files, now on multiple computer screens. "It's Tony, sweetheart."

And that is the story of how Zina's ovaries - I mean, err... _brain_ exploded.


	3. One of Those Days

_ So much crazy in twenty four hours_  
_ Too many bills, too little frills, and not enough flowers_

After a night filled with cheap Italian takeout (surprise, surprise) and old reruns of Family Feud, Zina found herself silently struggling to keep her eyes off of the blonde that sat across from her in the small carrier jet. She was also trying to hide her laughter from Coulson at his expense. Although she must admit, she wasn't doing nearly as good on that one.

Coulson had woken Zina up from his apartment living room couch at the ungodly hour of five in the morning, simply telling her to get ready and gather her things. Once she had gotten out of the shower, pulled her "Keep Calm and Carry On" shirt over her damp hair and a had her light-wash jeans on her bottom half, slipped a pair of moccasins onto her feet, and stuffed a recreational-reading book (that she had already read half way through the previous night, by the way) in her purse, she started asking questions.

"So, like, where are we going, exactly?" Sipping on her iced chai, she glanced at Coulson in the driver's seat, clad in his favorite pair of dark sunglasses.

"Classified,"he replied quickly as if it was second nature, no emotion showing on his square jaw.

"Come on, Phillis!"

"That is most certainly not my given name."

Zina huffed, taking a gulp of her drink. "I remember now. It's 'God'." She was quiet for a few minutes, gazing out the passenger seat window as quiet lyrics "It's a quarter after one, I'm a little drunk and I need you now" from the car radio filled the silence.

They passed a run-down fast food joint, it's windows fogged with dirt and the sign '_Charlie's Burgers_' faded orange by the sun. Zina bit the inside of her lip and spoke.

"If I guess where we're headed to, will you tell me if I'm right?"

Coulson looked straight ahead, his eyes never leaving the road. Well, actually, Zina couldn't tell if his eyes left the road, considering she couldn't even see his eyes.

At first, she suspected that he didn't hear her inquiry, but her hypothesis was disproved with the fact that Coulson hears literally everything. She concluded that he was ignoring her. Her theory: Phil Coulson is a jerk. Example: That one time she was cooped up at the SHIELD base because Clint and Nat had an assignment. She was so bored, her actions resulted in going around and slapping all the SHIELD agents' behinds. The best part was when they would turn around, sufficiently surprised, she'd be behind a nearby corner trying not to snicker so loud. Phil finally caught her when she was about to plant a hard one on him, and he carried her like a sack of potatoes all the way back to the room she had been assigned to for the past three weeks. She spent the rest of her time on the base under constant supervision by the one and only Agent Maria Hill, whose high cheekbones could make you bleed if you dared to slap them.

No, this incident did not happen last month. It was two months ago, thank you very much.

Since her theory had sufficiently been proven, the statement 'Phil Coulson is a jerk' was a universal law. _Wow_, Zina chewed her nails, pensive, _Sophomore biology actually taught me something. How's that for the scientific method, mofos._

End tangent.

She placed her tea in the cup holder more forcefully than she probably should have. "Oh my god, Phil, are you seriously not liste-"

"Sure," he said casually, cutting her off.

Her eyes became big, which made them look even larger under her thick glasses. But her brain caught up with her and she furrowed her brows and pursed her lips, scrutinizing Coulson's response. "Are you for real?" she asked, disbelief dripping from her words. "You'll actually tell me?"

This time, he lowered his sunglasses so that Zina could actually make eye contact with him, his steel eyes meeting her own hazel ones. "Of course, Zina. I'm completely serious." His sunglasses slipped back to conceal his eyes and he concentrated on the road once again. "If you guess correctly, that is."

Zina couldn't help but believe him now. It's the eyes, she reasoned.

She smiled at him, sitting more comfortable in her seat. "Okay, uhh, cool." Her eyes looked at the carpeted ceiling of the mid-sized sedan as she worried her bottom lip "Are we going to, uhhm, ehh..." She considered her options: something that has to do with the government and is secret. Well, that really narrows the playing field. Not.

Zina suddenly smiled like she had just had a 'Eureka' moment. "Area 51!" she exclaimed.

"Wrong." Coulson sipped his coffee casually, exiting ff of the interstate onto a rural two lane road.

Zina visibly deflated in her seat, sighing. She sipped her iced drink, and spoke, unhesitant. "Fort Knox?"

Coulson scrunched his nose, eyeing her. "Why would we go there?"

"I don't know, I'm not a secret government agent."

"Thank God for that."

"Yes, thank you, Phil Coulson" Zina said sarcastically, glaring at the middle aged agent. She crossed her moccasin-ed feet on the black dashboard and leaned her seat back. "How about the Bermuda Triangle?"

"No."

"Jeez, SHIELD needs to get out more. Okay, umm, what about where the lunar landing _actually_ happened?"

Coulson hesitated, though his face was void of emotions, as usual. "What are you talking about?"

Zina looked at Coulson like he had just said a lame pick-up line, which just doesn't happpen. "Everyone knows that the lunar landing wasn't actually _lunar_."

Coulson looked at the redhead quizzically and shook his head. "That is the most ridiculous notion I have ever heard."

"Puh-Lease, Philippe," Zina said nonchalantly, pushing her glasses further up her nose. "It's common knowledge. They staged the whole thing! It's like, the biggest conspiracy in the world!"

Coulson brought the conversation back to the original subject. "One more guess, and that's it."

"What?! That's not fair!" Zina said indignantly.

"It's not my fault you're horrible at guessing."

"Fine," Zina said begrudgingly, sitting up in her seat. She tucked an unruly piece of long russet hair behind her ear and sipped her tea as she thought.

The duo had crossed at least another thirty miles before Zina broke the silence. "The Helicarrier." It wasn't a question.

Coulson didn't move a muscle and continued to drive on the lonely beat-up road. He briefly glanced at Zina from above his glasses, then returned his eyes to the dark asphalt. He picked up his coffee, twirled it in his not-driving hand a couple of times, glanced at the Starbucks logo on the recycled sleeve, and took a good long drink.

Zina stared at the senior agent in utter suspense.

Coulson slowly slipped his coffee back in the cup holder and turned down a gravel road. The Atlantic ocean could be seen on the horizon, passed the small shrubs and dunes of sand. Zina didn't know how long she sat there, waiting in anticipation for Coulson's answer, but she felt the car stop and the engine cease. She looked up from her staring contest with the side of Coulson's head to see they were at a small airplane runway with a Quinjet less than twenty yards away from their black sedan. And standing there next to the tramp leading into the aircraft, with his shirt tucked into his khakis and his hands behind his back waiting patiently, was the sexie- uhh, most _handsome_ man Zina had ever set her spectacled eyes on. His eyes squinted as he faced the sun, watching Coulson hop out of the vehicle and shut his door behind him.

She slid out of the car in a daze, clumsily stumbling over her feet and almost falling on the cement of the runway. She quickly straightened, smoothing her shirt out and fixing her ginger hair into it's proper place (like it did have a proper place). Zina made her way to the back of the crossover, intent on not making eye contact with the blonde for fear that she might implode from his sheer attractiveness. Opening the trunk, she sighed heavily as she looked at the size of her cotton candy suitcase. It could hold two small children comfortably.

She glanced around the car with the notion to ask Coulson for some help, only to see him with his sunglasses off and a huge smile on his face (well, what was a huge smile for him: a slight upward turning of the lips), shaking the Captain's hand. She half-grinned fondly at the senior agent who was currently chatting it up with blonde, and decided to leave Coulson to his fanboy-ing.

Zina glared sourly back at the suitcase, determined to drag it out of the car, one way or another. She reached for the handle, and pulled.

After two minutes of earnest tugging, she ended up moving the luggage about three inches. Zina allowed her torso to flop face down on the grey flooring of the car alongside her case. "This is ridiculous," she said into the carpet, picking herself up and huffing a tendril out of her face. "All right," Zina said to herself, rolling her shoulders. "I can do this." She hopped into the trunk and crawled to the posterior of the back seats. Bracing her spine on the backside of the seats, she places her 9 1/2 size feet on the side of her pink portmanteau and shoved with all her strength. Which, honestly, wasn't very much.

After exerting more energy than she had in a month, her suitcase shifted so that the extendable handle was protruding from the trunk about a foot, and she climbed out of the car. She wiped the back of her hand across her forehead and her eyes widened when she realized she was working up a sweat. _Great, now I'll smell like sweat AND Japanese Cherry Blossom._ She snapped a hair tie off of her wrist and threw her locks into a loose ponytail. She glanced around the car again to see Coulson still talking with Blondie, who smiled politely as Phil's comments, even though he looked like he was seeking a way out of the conversation.

Zina huffed and puffed at Coulson, who should be over there assisting her with her luggage, but instead she was being nice and allowing him to endlessly question and compliment his idol. "I am such a kind-hearted person," Zina pointed out to no one in particular.

Her attention returned to her suitcase, determined to get it out of the God-forsaken crossover. She rubbed her hands together, wiped the sweat that was building in them on her jeans, and grabbed onto the retractable handle. "Be prepared to get pwned, motherfucker."

Promptly after her first heave, the sweat that had returned to her hands made them slip from the handle, sending Zina cascading backwards - her glasses flying off the bridge of her nose - and onto the concrete runway. She landed on her backside with an audible "OOMF", and the force of the blow made her body slump flat on the ground.

She stared up at the blurry sky and soon enough heard a pair of running feet and another casually trotting towards the car. She frowned. Fuck you too, Phil. Fuck. You. Too.

Suddenly, a fuzzy Captain America came hurtling around the black crossover and loafers came to stop at her cranium. The never ending khakis led to the plaid shirt that now looked a solid turquoise thanks to her extreme near-sidedness. He stared down at her, and from what she could make out of his facial features, he looked slightly confused and fully concerned.

She was just now comprehending that Captain-high-trousers-fine-ass-America was standing over her, giving her a fabulous view of his crotch and protruding pectorals, that the first thing that came out of her mouth was, "Have I died and gone to heaven?"

"Uhh," now his blurry expression looked even more confused. "Erm, miss, are you-"

"Why do you always end up on your behind, Miss Romanoff?"

"You think I brought this on myself, Agent Coulson?" Zina demanded, clearly annoyed at the concept. Her tawny eyes traveled back up the legs of the Captain, focusing on where they joined. "Although-"

"Don't start, Zina," Coulson deadpanned.

Zina sighed heavily. "Philly Cheese, I can't help it if I'm a hormonal. That's like, the definition of a teenager." She attempted to focus her eyes on the Captain angular face, who had observed the scene in silent bewilderment, but no avail. Her hand of chewed nails suddenly began patting and feeling the ground around her. "Has anyone seen my specs?" she asked louder than necessary. Her gazed danced between Coulson and the Captain., or what she could see of them.

Fuzzy Coulson disappeared from her field of view and she heard the scraping of expensive plastic on airplane runway as she stared up at Captain America and the bluer than blue sky behind him. "I'm Zina, BTW," casually slipped out of her mouth. Her dark eyebrows furrowed and she hesitated in voicing her next thought. "...Wait, you probably don't know what that means." Then she said matter-of-factly, "We'll do a lesson on pop culture later." She sniffled and continued. "You turned to a Capsicle in, what, 1940-something? So you've never seen Star Trek: Next Generation, or have heard any 'yo mama' jokes." Spontaneous giggles began to slip out of her body, and she said in her best Patrick Stewart impression, "I'll have an Earl Grey." The Captain's hazy expression now looked frightened, and Zina quickly fought to slap a band-aid on her excessive use of modern references. Her and Coulson didn't need to scrape Steve Rogers' brain off of the car windows because Zina blew his mind.

"That was a reference to the Star Trek thing," she spluttered, "It's a really long, complicated story involving a really cute and awkward andriod - damn it, you don't know what that is either!"

Steve Rogers visibly flinched at her use of crude language. _Zina, you are really good at making friend. LOL JK._ "Oh, uhh, sorry," Zina stuttered from her place on the concrete. "I have a tendency to sometimes use Not Very Nice Words. It's kind of a personal prob - Ahh, much better." she decided as Coulson handed her the coke bottle glasses and she slipped them behind her ears. Blinking a few times at the sudden clarity, she gazed up at a confounded Steve Rogers.

"Dude, if pot roast, mashed potatoes, and peas were personified, it'd totally be you," the ginger said, finally seeing the man clearly. His square jaw was clean shaven and his hair was neatly parted and combed. The sunlight hit his blonde head just right so it looked like liquid gold. His celestial eyes were the color of Sunday family dinners and summer road trips and her grandpa's favorite pair of suspenders (or rather, his favorite pair of throwing knives. Russian, remember?) His lips were parted slightly and he gazed at her like she was some newly discovered species. _Well,_ Zina thought, _I am pretty damn unique. _

She began to sit up, but when her spine rolled up to her tailbone, she promptly yelped. She fell back to the ground when searing pain shot up her back and through her butt, and head fell back onto the concrete with a SMACK.

"Ooooouuuuuuucchhhhh," she moaned, her eyes squeezed shut. "I think I broke my butt bone." She reached up to rub her scalp through her hair and grimaced. "And my head, too."

She opened her eyes when she heard a deep voice say, "Uh, miss, would you like help off the runway?"

Captain High Trousers stood alongside her now, his green and blue plaid arm outstretched towards her. His open palm was large, and thoughts arose in Zina's head that should not arise in a fifteen-year-old's mind. Her bespectacled eyes shifted from the large hand to his ultramarine orbs for eyeballs (damn, it's always the eyes) and back to the hand waiting patiently for her to grab ahold. She sighed. "Talk about a prince charming and damsel in distress." His lips turned slightly upward. "Glad you got that reference, Pot Roast."

Her had-not-seen-sunlight-in-at-least-a-year arm came up slowly and lazily. Finally, her chewed-nailed fingers brushed his calloused ones, and the Captain gripped her hand tightly. She was not mentally, emotionally, or physically prepared for the force the Captain used to pull her off the ground.

I mean, yeah, she was a bit _heavier_ than most girls, and it usually took a bit more exertion to pull her out of a seat or up off an airplane runway, in this case. But the way in which Captain America hauled her from the cold ground made Zina think he didn't know his own strength.

Zina ended up flying about four feet into the air before her feet touched solid ground. She was set off balance from her landing and ended up slumped over, leaning into the Captain's rock hard ribcage.

She was pretty sure her ovaries imploded on themselves.

His hands found her sides to prevent her from falling over air, which it seemed like she had a knack for today, and she was suddenly extremely aware of her love handles. _Curse Phil and his love for cheap Italian take-out_! She stopped breathing for a moment, because of the fact that her face was smushed into the torso of his button up and kind of causing her to suffocate or because of_ oh my god I am literally breathing in Captain America do you understand how many women AND men would pay to be in this situation_, she didn't know. But she did know, as her gaze traveled up his phenomenal pectorals to reach his swimmable blue eyes, which were so wide that his eyebrows almost got lost in his hair, that things had definitely gotten awkward.

Damn it, where's Phil when you need him!

"Ahem." Oh, there he was.

Zina moved faster that she thought was possible for her, and jumped to attention. The concrete she had been previously laying on had suddenly become very interesting.

"Are we ready to leave?" inquired Coulson in a strangled tone.

Her eyes popped up to Coulson's forced smile, and squeaked, "Totes, Phil. Totes." She finally made eye contact with the man she was just leaning on, and said lamely, "Yeah, uhh, thanks for helping me up off the ground. Couldn't have done it without you."

And then she punched his arm. Like, seriously and actually half-hearted punched his tricep, like guy friends do instead of hugging because they are too manly. Zina just gave Captain America a bro-punch. She searched for words and came up with the most unoriginal way to end her speech. "...Yeah."

Pot Roast glanced at the spot where his arm had just been diffidently assaulted by Zina's fist, to the girl in question. His mouth was slightly ajar and he looked confused: he still must be in shock from suddenly finding a heap of teenager in his ams. Finally, he responded slowly, "No... Problem."

After their kind-of conversation was over, she hightailed it out of the awkward situation and onto the awaiting jet, her tousled red hair disappearing around the black sedan.

Steve Rogers hesitated for a minute, and then shook his blonde head. Well, that was one way to get aquatinted with someone.

As he walked towards the opening of the jet he would share with the agent and the teenage girl for the next two hours, he heard a rushed voice drift out. "Phil, I literally fell on him, okay! That's like the equivalent of falling on the typical American family's two story house and white picket fence! I'm going to be classified as a terrorist, and then I'm for sure going to get sent to prison!"

Steve smiled, amused. This girl is really a piece of work.

* * *

**A/N: Ahhh thank you guys for reading! (Sorry it took me a while for this one.. But I hoped you liked Steve! He's so cute anfd awkward and SEXY**

**And please review! :) it gives me inspiration to keep writing! Let me know what you think!**

**~Z xox**


	4. Everybody Talks

_ Oh my my, shit, everybody talks, everybody talks_  
_ Everybody talks too much_

"We're about forty minutes out from home base, sir," said the co-pilot of the quinjet that Zina, Coulson, and Steve Rogers currently occupied.

Zina looked up from game of Fruit Ninja (she was just about to beat her high score: _1444 biatches!_) at the newfound information. Her head slowly fell back onto the chrome bars of the carbo-bay-thingy as she groaned. "Forty minutes is, like," she hesitated, her eyes searching the ceiling for the proper word. "Forever!"

Steve Rogers glanced up from the clear television screen thing-a-ma-jig he had been reviewing for the past hour and a half to look at the teenager. A faint smile adorned his handsome face and he said, "I don't think 'forty minutes' falls under the category of 'forever', miss."

Zina exhaled heavily from her seat across from the super soldier, eying him from above her large spectacles. "It does when you have to pee like a racehorse". She pretended she didn't see his cheeks become rather pink rather quickly and his eyes dart back to his screen.

Steve Rogers, actual adorable yet surprising sexy embarrassed four year old.

Phil suddenly stood from his seat at the console and took the helicopter headphones off of his head full of thinning hair.

Steve looked up at Coulson, who now stood over him, one hand on the steel wall of the jet. Coulson was only about a head and a half taller than Steve, who was mildly slouching with his legs spread apart. _What a slut_, thought Zina, inwardly snickering. "So this, uhh," Steve glanced back at his television screen, "Dr. Banner was trying to replicate the serum they used on me?"

"Ha," Zina laughed, her gaze settled on the ceiling. She soon realized that she had definitely laughed out loud, and the two men where staring at her in confusion. Her mouth opened and closed as she quickly tried to explain. "Uhh, ahh... don't ask." She didn't really want to share her thought process, which went something like this:

_Ugh I am so hungry like real talk where is a baked potato bar when you need one oh damn it I think I left my good-butt jeans in my dresser I knew I would forget them I told Nat to remind me man I could have worn them when I saw Tony Stark oh god Tony freaking Stark he is so going to sue me for sure but Holy Flying Fish Batman did you see his behind in those trousers of his dayum he can put his arc in my reactor any day wait wait oh my god did Steve just say serum or semen oh god semen ha ha hAA shit they're looking at me weird I hope I didn't say any of that out loud. _

"Umm," Phil slowly tore his scrutinizing gaze away from the ginger and back to Steve. "Yeah, a lot of people were." Coulson had retired his sunglasses so that you could actually see his piercing blue eyes; Zina honestly wouldn't be surprised if daggers literally came out of his retinas. Just another way Phil Coulson can kill you.

Coulson leaned a hand against the wall of the jet, staring down at Steve as the blonde read through the articles once again. Phil kind of half-shrugged, and continued his explanation. "You were the world's first super hero."

Zina sure as hell didn't miss the admiration in Phil Coulson's eyes as he gazed down at Steve, or Captain America, rather. She knew how much of a fanboy Phil was when it came to the Captain, having seen his personal collection of figurines and trading cards. Which where in a bulletproof glass case in a secret room behind an abnormally large bookshelf in his apartment. How Zina stumbled upon _that_ little beauty is a story for another time.

Phil glanced up from his entrancement to Zina. He did a double take seeing her knowing look that clearly said 'Phil, you're staring.' The agent's eyes widened and he stumbled over his next words.

"Uh - erm - Banner thought gamma radiation might hold the key to unlocking Erskine's original formula." He hid his embarrassment fairly well. We applaud you, Philly Cheese.

Zina gazed at Steve's troubled face while watched a poorly recorded video of the doctor in question, or rather, his alter ego. _That dude can really fuck your shit up_, Zina reflected.

"He looks like the Jolly Green Giant," she voiced into the silence. Realizing that no, he didn't really look like the Jolly Green Giant, she tried to clarify her statement. "Only less... jolly."

Steve glanced at her and quirked a blonde brow, to which she only shrugged, her oversized tee shirt slightly sliding down her shoulder.

Steve sighed. "Didn't really go his way, did it," he stated more than asked to the general public. His face was emotionless as his eyes watched the huge green _something_ roar into the camera (yes, it literally roared like Mufasa). Zina knew Steve had been through a World War in his abnormally long lifetime, but his 'soldier face' still appeared at the Hulk's havoc. Zina hummed the melody of Let It Be in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"Not so much," Coulson said hesitantly, looking away from Zina as she continued to hum. "When he's not that thing, though," Phil continued, "Guy's like a Steven Hawking."

Zina promptly stopped her humming to gaze, appalled, at Coulson. "Really, Phil?" she asked accusingly. "He doesn't even know who Mickey Mouse is!"

"Actually, I-"

"How do you expect him to know who Steven Hawking is?" Zina finished. She quickly turned to Steve. "No offense."

Steve shook his head. "None taken," he said reassuringly, and then added, "But I actually do know who Mickey Mouse is."

"That's beside the point," Zina shooed off his response, once again staring at Coulson, obviously waiting for him to justify himself.

Coulson's eyes danced from the finger-pointing teen, to the now thoroughly confused Steve Rogers, and back again. "He's like a - like a smart person," he stated lamely.

"Good save, Phillis," Zina sarcastically drawled as she continued her game of Fruit Ninja. Steve considered Coulson's replay, and returned to the video.

Zina was 16 points away from beating her high score when Coulson spoke up again. "I gotta say, it's an honor to meet you, officially."

"Here we go," Zina mumbled casually, her eyes not leaving her cell phone screen. Coulson either didn't hear the comment or ignored it. Zina knew it was most likely the latter.

"I mean, I sort of met you," he explained, beginning to word-vomit. Probably because of the way Steve smiled up at him, flattered. Zina glanced up at the exchange, willing her inside thought 'Eyes front, soldier!' to not come outside.

"I mean - I watched you while you were sleeping."

Zina watched Steve's smile falter and his eyes burn a hole into the wall of the jet next to her head.

You hear that? That is the sound of Zina's palm hitting her face.

"Oh my gooooooood." she drew out, her eyes pinched shut as she let her head hit the bars of the cargo area yet again with a faint _thunk_. "Phil Coulson. _Phil Coulson_." Her eyes flew open and she looked at the man desperately. "You have no idea how much second-hand embarrassment I am feeling right now." She shook her head lightly, loose tendrils falling in her face. "Like, seriously. I am getting physical pains in my chest." She patted the place above her heart to emphasize her point. Glasses off, her hand exasperatedly slid down her face. She looked helplessly at the Captain. "Do you see what I have to live with 93% of the time?" She motioned to Coulson. "Like, okay, I know the movie _Saving Private Ryan_ was based off of your face, or whatever," Steve's brows furrowed at the reference, "But having to deal with this dude's Super Nanny marathons is a daily struggle. I'm talking like, time to call in back up, "Abort, abort, abort!" type thing."

Steve looked at his lap, doing a crap-job at hiding his grin.

Coulson visibly panicked as Steve stood up and walked over to see out of the front of the jet. "I mean - uhh - I was - I was present while you were unconscious... From the - ice." He hurried to stand next to Steve, continuing in an attempt to diffuse the awkwardness that hung in the air like an obese sloth. Okay, bad metaphor, but you get the point.

"You're making it wo-orse," Zina sing-songed quietly, her eyes returning to her game, which reflected off of her thick glasses.

Coulson quickly continued as if her statement went unheard. "You know, its really, just a - a huge _honor_ to have you on board!" He lightly hit the jet wall at his statement as if satisfied that he had saved at least a little of his dignity.

No one spoke for a while, simply bathing in the silence. "Well," Steve finally said, gazing out the front window of the jet to the Atlantic Ocean. "I hope I'm the man for the job."

"Oh you are," Zina piped up. Steve had gone to stand right in front of her, giving her an exclusive, VIP view of his finely shaped high-wait-trouser-clad behind. "You truly are." Steve glanced over his shoulder at her, and she quickly averted her eyes and instead looked to his face, smiling innocently. "Never doubt yourself, Steve Rogers!" she exclaimed dramatically.

Unfortunately, Coulson had caught her staring, and sent her a heated glare. Zina, like the young lady she was, stuck her tongue out at him.

Coulson sighed, deciding to have a chat with her later. "She's right," he concluded, and after a few beats of silence, he continued. "Ahh, we made some modifications to the uniform." He shrugged, and smiled smugly to himself. "I had a little design input."

"What?" Zina perked up. "No one consulted me on this!"

"When has SHIELD ever consulted you on anything?"

"Like I would tell the likes of you," Zina retorted back to Coulson, shoving her glasses further up the bridge of her nose.

The corner of Steve's lips turned upward at the banter of the agent and the girl. He'll have to ask her about their relationship in the future. His blonde head turned back to Agent Coulson, his eyebrows rising. "The uniform," he asked, surprised, "aren't the stars and striped a little..." he searched for the right word. "Old fashioned?"

"Please, Steve, they're hipster."

Coulson ignored the girl sitting down and subtly shook his head. "With everything that's happening - everything that's about to come to light - people might just need a little... Old fashioned."

There was a moment of silence where everyone seemed to take in Coulson's words. Steve stared out over the ocean, Coulson stared at Steve, and Zina stared at Steve's butt, her left hand cradling her cheek. She contently sighed, a wistful smile gracing her chap-sticked lips as she gazed at the eighth wonder of the world. Her smile quickly faded and a crease formed in between her eyebrows once she realized exactly what Coulson had said.

"Wait," she started, eyes flying to the back of Coulson's head, "What's happening?" Steve slowly turned his head, quirking a blonde brow at the girl who looked frantically back and forth between his face and the thinning dark hair of Agent Coulson. "I wanna know what's about to come to light!" Steve glanced back at the agent, who smirked coyly to himself, obviously amused by Zina's demands. "Phil, tell me what's happening! I need det-"

"Sir, we're about to land."

Coulson and Steve looked out of the large windshield (I guess you could call it that) of the jet. "Oh god, finally!" Zina tried to jump out of her seat, only to be strangled by her seat belt, which was still securely fastened. Once that problem was out of the way, she began walking up to stand beside the two men, reciting her usual speech every time she was ever on any sort of aircraft: "Ladies and gentlemen, please keep your hands, arms, feet, _and legs_ inside the aircraft at all times. Be sure to watch your children, and thank you for flying wit-" she stopped short once she saw exactly what they were landing on.

The jet flew low over the ocean, a huge _thing_ coming into view. It was like a naval aircraft carrier, only... ginormous.

"You little bitch!" Zina socked Coulson hard on the shoulder, who, to her extreme irritation, didn't move an inch. Steve visibly flinched at her use of language, though, but she merely ignored him. She was too busy glaring daggers at the suit-clad agent to pay any attention. "You lied to me!"

"That is completely untrue." Coulson looked at the girl innocently, not even trying to hide his grin. "I never answered you when you guessed 'The Helicarrier'."

"That still counts!" Zina exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at the agent. She followed him to the back of the jet as it landed. "You filthy little liar!"

Coulson rolled his eyes. "You know, Zina, that is kind of what I do for a living." The ramp from the jet to the asphalt of the aircraft carrier lowered, illuminating the inside of the jet with sunlight. Phil Coulson slipped his sunglasses back on, and began to stroll down the ramp, only to be stopped by Zina's hand on his suit jacket sleeve.

"Where do you think you're going?!"

Coulson thought for a moment, and then simply said, "Out." He looked away from the heated glare of the girl, who was mercilessly hanging onto his sleeve, back to Steve Rogers. The blonde met Coulson's eyes with a confused look. "Are you coming, Captain?" Coulson inquired, the ginger girl letting go of the agent's sleeve, huffing and mumbling something along the lines of "only women can have babies, Phil".

Steve blinked a few times, clearing his head. The agent and the teenager's relationship utterly confounded him. Were they related? They acted as if they were bickering siblings at times, but Steve would look again and see Zina eyeing Coulson with the kind of admiration and care the youngest sister has for an overprotective older brother. A look with a hint of amusement, a half a cup of annoyance, and bucket full of unconditional, and perhaps unrealized, love.

Steve realized that Coulson was staring at him questioningly under his aviators. "Uhh, ahh," he stuttered, giving himself a moment to gain his bearings. Steve stood up a little straighter and squared his shoulders, opening his eyes, which, if it was possible, looked even more blue.

Zina watched in awe as Steve Rogers seemed to grow another four inches as he straightened his spine. The fact of just how big and burly he was suddenly dawned on her, and so did the revelation that he was really just a huge teddy bear on the inside. Crunchy, with a succulent, soft center.

Her thoughts about mouth-watering treats and stars and stripes were interrupted by Soldier-Face Steve answering Coulson. "Yes, Agent Coulson. Right behind you."

~~~**~~~

Zina stepped out into the glaring sunlight and onto the aircraft carrier, suffering temporary blindness as eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness change. Her ability of sight compromised, she walked cautiously on the paved ground, her hands out in front of her.

"Zina, you look like an imbecile" That was Coulson to her left, his tone flat and matter-of-fact.

Zina sighed, her sight slowly returning to her. "Well, Phillip, I would look like more of an _imbecile_ if I ran - nuhhg." She tottered on one foot, only to have a small hand come to her shoulder to steady her. Her sight finally returning to her person, Zina stared up into her sister's face.

"Nat!" Zina exclaimed wildly, throwing her arms around the slim woman's neck.

Natasha embraced her sister in return, though maybe a bit stiffly. Oh, right, she in SHIELD mode. Zina hastily extracted her arms from around her sister's neck and looked at Natasha, who's small smile was hardly concealed.

"Hey, sis," she said casually, putting her hands on her hips. "Did Agent Coulson treat you okay?"

Zina looked back at Coulson, who looked a bit awkward witnessing the exchange, and then to Steve Rogers, who glanced from Zina to Natasha, confused. Does he have any other facial expressions?

She faced her sister once again. "If by okay, you mean barging into Tony Stark's penthouse uninvited and meeting Captain High Trousers over there," she motioned to Steve, who automatically looked down at his khakis, "Then yeah, it was okay."

Natasha looked slightly amused, but when she was in her 'Agent Mode', as Zina liked to call it, her emotions (or what she had of them) were much less obvious.

Natasha's eyes met Coulson's for the second time in two days, and he began introductions."Agent Romanoff," Coulson gestured to Natasha, and then at Steve, "This is Captain Rogers."

Agent Romanoff's pouty lips smiled sweetly at the Captain, saying a simple "Hi."

"Ma'am," Steve said politely, nodding his head in her direction.

"And I'm Vincenzina Romanoff, Codename: The Ginger."

Steve cracked a smile at the girl, her exceptionally long red hair flying around her in the breeze. Her head poked out from behind the older Romanoff, and when she caught Steve's gaze, she smiled toothily at him, her black glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose as it crinkled.

Natasha's small smile disappeared and she was all business as she turned to Agent Coulson. "They need you on the bridge. They're starting the phase trace."

Coulson subtly nodded and began walking towards the inner area of the ship. "See you there," he said, striding over to the glass door.

"Oh, yeah, Philly," Zina called out, causing Coulson to turn on his heel. "I'm still royally pissed off at you!" Coulson looked utterly unimpressed as she turned back around and continued his trek to the safety on the indoors. Zina continued to call out her threat. "Phil Coulson, if you lie to me one more time, I swear I will tie you up the the ceiling of this place by your thumbs and make you read _Green Eggs and Ham_ over and over again until you beg for mercy!"

Coulson reached the door and looked back at once again, his face blank. "Just try not to fall off the side, Zina." With that, he slid inside and let the glass door close behind him.

"Yeah, well fu-" Zina suddenly glanced at her sister's stern face and quirked brow, daring her to finish her sentence. "Uhh, fu- I mean, umm - fun times - uhh, fun times with you Coulson. Fun... Times..." The end of her sentence trailed off as Zina glanced defiantly at her sister, lips pursed.

"So, you two are siblings," Steve stated more than asked after a few beats of thick silence.

Zina opened her mouth to answer him, but Natasha beat her to it. "Sadly, yes," she said, heavily sighing.

"Hey!" Zina looked at her sister accusingly. "You're just upset because mom always liked me best." She turned to Steve, her hair swinging wildly. "And by mom, I mean Agent Coulson."

Steve bit his lips, glanced between the two sisters who looked nothing alike with the exception of their dark eyes and fiery hair. Natasha was reserved and collected, never betraying her emotions except for the small smile she had offered Steve in their acquaintance. The younger Romanoff, on the other hand, with her lopsided spectacles that matched her ever present grin, was starting to become the little sister that Steve never had. Which, Steve thought, was really ridiculous considering he's known her for less than twenty four hours.

Steve was disturbed from his musings by Agent Romanoff. "Would you like a look around, Captain?"

Zina seemed to brighten. "Ooh, ooh, I'll give you the grand tour!" She straightened out her 'Keep Calm And Carry On' shirt (Steve understood the reference, by the way) and cleared her throat. "Lady and gentleman," she began in an overly official voice, "Prepare yourselves for the most awe-inspiring, jaw-dropping, phenomenal sight you will ever lay eyes on!" She leaned in towards Natasha and Steve Rogers, as if ready to share a quality secret. Steve subconsciously leaned in as well, which Zina caught notice of and smiled mischievously. "Some call it the eight wonder of the world, but, sadly, that honor is taken by the sight of Director Fury laughing."

"Alright, Zina," Natasha interrupted, shoving her sister behind her. Zina made a sound of objection, but Natasha threw her a bored look. The teenager grumbled, but ceased in her protest.

Natasha Romanoff turned her chocolate eyes on the super soldier, who was still attempting to stifle his chuckles. He quickly collected himself as he returned Agent Romanoff's gaze.

"Still want a tour, Captain?"

Steve looked at the agent, and then to the girl nodding quickly behind her, grinning ecstatically. Steve exhaled, and then spoke. "That sounds great, ma'am."

* * *

**Gah Chapter 3 up! Sorry it took a while. I've had tons of school work to catch up on. Anyway, thanks to everyone who reviewed. But I am feeling a little discouraged. I don't know if I will continue this story if I don't get a few more reviews. It just doesn't seem like anyone reads this. **

**So, if you wish for me to continue, please REVIEW! (: **

**~Z**


	5. Another One Bites The Dust

_Are you ready, hey, are you ready for this? Are you hanging on the edge of your seat?_

* * *

"That's an airplane... That's and airplane... _That's_ an airplane..."

Captain Rogers and Agent Romanoff walked a few paces behind Zina as she rambled on, pointing out different aircrafts in a monotone voice, looking extremely uninterested.

"It was quite the buzz around here, finding you in the ice," Agent Romanoff spoke up casually. She walked alongside Captain Rogers, her short, curly hair bouncing with each step. Steve saw Zina a few yards ahead of them point to a strange looking craft and exclaim "Oh my god, what is that, the _Millennium Falcon_?!" but continued to walk instep with Agent Romanoff. "I thought Coulson was gonna swoon," finished the redheaded woman.

Steve looked away from the agent, attempting to hide the amused grin that was quickly spreading across his face. He remembered the jet ride over there, and recalled a certain senior agent who maundered on about watching him while he was sleeping. He turned back to Agent Romanoff, noticing her innocent look. "Did he asked you to sign his Captain America trading cards yet?"

Steve's grin faltered as he looked at the redhead, confused. "Trading cards?"

Natasha Romanoff tore her eyes away from the super soldier, the smug look on her face not escaping Steve's eyes. "They're vintage. He's very proud."

Zina unexpectedly stopped her current spiel, which included the phrases "the hell is that?" and "I think that's Air Force One" and "Oh my god, Harrison Ford, let me love you!" as she spun on her heel to face the two adults. "Are you telling him about Phil's trading cards?" Natasha gave her sister a look, and the teenager focused on the blonde. "Aw man, Phil is, like, literally _in love with you_!" The Captain looked mildly horrified. "No, not like, in a homosexual way," she clarified quickly, but then her dark brows furrowed. "...Well, actually, maybe a little bit." Now Steve looked especially horrified. "Anyway, that's besides the point." She made a dismissing gesture, and focused back on the two adults in front of her. "Dude, he has, like, a whole room dedicated to you!" She walked backwards as she explained this to the Captain, her sister only half listening. "It's more like a shrine - I'm serious!" She protested at Steve's disbelieving look. "Phil has posters, and like, little action figures, and plushies, and I think he even has a microwavable bowl!" She continued her backwards trek, her eyes squinting into the sun as she tried to recall all of the Captain America memorabilia that Phil Coulson had in his possession. "There's, like, way more stuff. I just can't remember."

Steve's mouth opened a couple of times like a fish out of water. "And - umm - how exactly did you come across this... collection?"

Zina barked out a laugh, shaking her head. "Oh. _Oh_. Now that is an interesting tale. Okay, so -"

Natasha suddenly spoke up. "Zina, watch where you're-"

"Not now, Nat, I'm trying to - uhhg!" Zina felt her back hit something hard, and soon enough, she was tumbling over her own feet. The sun hit her eyes like a baseball bat, causing her temporary blindness twice in one day, and she fell backwards as the _whatever_ she bumped into moved away. She suddenly shouted very quickly and very loudly, "Not again!"

She waited for the asphalt runway of the Helicarrier to connect with her skull, but it never came. Large hands found her waist, and she opened her eyes to the sight of a man with curly dark hair embedded with a few streaks of silver, warm brown eyes that reminded Zina of Starbucks' Salted Carmel Hot Chocolate, which were under some pretty gnarly eyebrows. The bright blue sky behind him greatly contrasted with his tan skin. The man's face was quite attractive, Zina concluded. Then she thought, _Dude, what is up with SHIELD and attractive men?! I'm going to slowly implode!_

The man looked down at her with kind eyes, and slowly smiled awkwardly. Leaning back on her heels and into the man's chest, she let out a small laugh. "Heh. It's settled. The world is officially out to get me."

The man slowly pushed her up to stand properly on her feet. She mumbled a "thanks" as she brushed off the imaginary dust off of her jeans, avoiding all eye contact. But three pairs of eyes were boring into her, and some magnetic force pulled her hazel orbs up to meet six others.

_Hello, welcome to awkward class. I'm Zina Romanoff, and I'll be teaching you today._

Zina focused on the man who helped her up, with his purple button up and tan suit jacket. Suddenly, she seemed to remember her manners. "Uh, emm, Vincenzina Romanoff," she stuck out her small hand full of multi-colored fingernails, "At your service." The man took her hand hesitantly and lightly shook it. "And, umm, thanks for saving me from, ah... impending doom," she finished quite lamely.

"Yeah, no problem," the man said slowly, extracting his hand from her grip. "I'm-"

"Doctor Banner." Steve, who had been watching beside Agent Romanoff, strode forward. Doctor Banner's eyes left the girl in front of him and landed on Steve Rogers, who was now extending his hand forward at the doctor.

Doctor Banner's nodded in enlightenment, and shook Steve's hand gladly, yet somewhat gingerly. He looked Steve up and down, finally settling on his face. "Yeah, hi." He smiled, which looked more like a grimace. "They told me you'd be coming." Banner squinted up at Steve Rogers as he returned his hand to his trouser pocket. They considered each other for a moment, an apprehensive look on Doctor Banner's face.

"Uhmm, cough cough says the awkward ginger as she observed the man with the unusually high trousers and the other who looks like her History teacher."

Cellophane and hot chocolate eyes landed on Zina. She tried to explain, looking to Doctor Banner. "The guy has the same hair, and - uhh, just, never mind." She glanced at Natasha, who's head was in her hand and was whispering "Oh my god."

"So..." Steve slowly tore his eyes from Zina, who had walked over beside Agent Romanoff. The two were talking in hushed voices, but he distinctively heard the agent say "I can't believe you fell on him," to which Zina replied, scratching the back of her head, "He wasn't the first." She glanced up at Steve and immediately averted her gaze, seeing he was already eyeing her. Steve cleared his throat and continued, turning his full attention on the doctor in front of him. "Word is you can find the cube."

Doctor Banner bit his lower lip, taking in his surroundings. "Hmm. Really?" He settled on Steve again. "Is that-"

"Wait, what cube?" Zina's interruption caused her to be shoved behind her older sister, but she persisted. "There's a_ cube_ now?!" Her questioning was quickly silenced by a shush from Natasha.

Doctor Banner looked himself around anxiously, eyes darting after the SHIELD agents hooking down aircrafts to that which was the Helicarrier. "Is that the, uhh, the only word on me?"

Zina furrowed her brows, sizing up the doctor. He stood at average height, around 5'10", she figured, give or take a few inches depending how fluffy his hair was at any given time. He seemed to wring his hands often, and was always glancing around as if an unknown attacker would jump out from right under his nose. He was older, but not old. Early to mid-forties, at the most. He seemed kind, yet hesitant to make acquaintances unless forced to. His face was clean-shaven and had a worrisome expression plastered on it.

_This dude needs some weed or something_, Zina thought solemnly.

Natasha turned away from Zina and put her hand to her ear, no doubt listening to someone's commands coming through her earpiece. Zina watched as Steve and Doctor Banner continued to converse.

"Only word I care about."

Zina glanced up at the Captain's profile at his response. The small smile that graced her lips was kept to herself as Banner shifted a little uncomfortably. She really liked Steve Rogers. He was cool.

Banner looked around stiffly. "This must be strange for you," he gestured to the aircrafts and SHIELD agents running around every which way like ants. "All of this."

Steve began strolling towards the edge of the ship (if you could call it that), Doctor Banner alongside and the two Romanoffs in tow. A formation of agents in training, Zina suspected, ran passed. Steve following them with his eyes. "Well," he began, "This is actually kind of familiar."

"Oh yeah, you were in the Armed Forces, huh? Okay, which is better: the Army or the Marines?"

Banner glanced at the young redhead, and back to the Captain, obviously searching for an explanation. Steve seemed at a loss. "Uhh..."

"I'm more of a Marines girl." Zina skipped to stand in between the men, hand shoved in her jean pockets. "I mean, come on, who can resist a man in uniform, right?!" Red tendrils flew around her face, which was flushed from the chilly wind on the carrier. "Example A: Channing Tatum." She leaned her head back and widened her eyes, which only appeared bigger under her glasses. "Day-um."

The blonde supersoldier turned his raised eyebrow to the doctor over the head of the ginger girl. He pursed his lips, thinking something over, and then mouthed "_Channing Tatum_?"

Bruce brushed off the question and mouthed back "_I'll explain later_."

The trio had stopped walking when Natasha spoke up from behind them. "Gentlemen, you may want to step inside for a minute." She smirked. "It's going to get a little hard to breathe."

Zina looked at the asphalt near her feet as a loud rumbling became apparent, seeing miniscule pieces of gravel roll and tumble around on the runway. She gave her sister an odd look and followed Captain Rogers and Doctor Banner to the literal edge of the Helicarrier. All three of the newcomers were whipping their head's around trying to figure out what was going on. Zina heard the announcement, "Flight crew, secure the deck." over a loud intercom, and looked around to see SHIELD agents running about, tying down aircrafts and securing miscellaneous things to the flight deck.

"What the hell?" Zina asked breathlessly, attempting to gather her wits. She looked back at her sister, who was smirking something fierce. "This is so_ not normal_."

Steve glanced with a quirked brow at Zina, but walked with his hands in his jacket pockets, seemingly quite calm about the whole ordeal. "Is this a submarine?"

Doctor Banner looked at Steve Rogers skeptically. "Really? They want me in a submerged pressurized metal container?"

"I take it you don't really travel," Zina supplied to the conversation without really looking at either man. The group had finally reached the end of the asphalt, and suddenly she remembered Coulson's words of "_just don't fall off the edge, Zina_".

The green-blue water below them looked like it was draining out of a bathtub, swirling and tumbling in a circular motion. She thought someone had literally "pulled the plug", so to speak. All of a sudden, a huge metal thing plunged out of the ocean, causing more wind than there already was. With her hair a whirlwind around her (as if it wasn't already windy enough), the sight made her instinctively grab onto the flannel and cotton sleeves next to her. She gulped. "Oh god. I-I think I'm gonna puke."

The craft soon started to lift, and Zina quickly set her feet apart to gain more balance. She saw the huge metal things were some sort of turbines. Her eyes widened and she looked behind her and found her sister's uncomfortably calm face.

Steve looked down at the teenager grasping onto his sleeve for dear life. He decided to let it slide, let her comfort herself in a plaid flannel sleeve. It was funny to him, how the young girl was scared of a little water, when all the while he's known her (even if it only has been four hours), she'd been acting as though she ruled the world. Well, sure, it was more than a little water, and if you fell into it you would most likely get turned into ground beef, but still. It reminded Steve that she was still young. Still a kid.

Doctor Banner noticed when Zina took his sleeve in her death grip, and visibly stiffened. Zina pretended not to notice, but she quickly relinquished his arm, wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans. "I'm gonna..." She gestured behind her, still staring deep into the water. "I'm gonna... go... over there..." She booked it from the edge of the craft to stand behind her sister.

Banner looked up from the tumbling water below and towards the clear blue sky above him. He sighed out a laugh, shook his head subtly, and turned to walk back towards the inner part of the ship. "Oh no, this is much worse."

Zina wasn't sure how she should take that statement. She made eye contact with her sister, who actually looked a little fazed but the doctor's words. Zina raised her eyebrows at Natasha, who shook her head subtly. The Captain had retreated from the edge to rejoin the redhead duo and the three watched Banner open the glass door to the ship and slip inside.

The wind was becoming unbearable, and a loud alarm was going off, probably signaling that everyone should go inside unless they wanted to, ya know, _die_. Zina pulled her jacket tighter around her, and the assassin, the captain, and the teenager stalked towards the double doors.

"Well, Captain," Natasha spoke over the whirls of wind and the loud alarm, "Welcome to the team."

The blonde held open the door for them, grinning at her, which was more of a grimace. "Pleasure's all mine."

"Yeah yeah yeah," Zina pushed passed both of them to get into the pressurized inner part of the Helicarrier. "Now can we please close the door before we all get sucked to god knows where?"

* * *

**I AM SO SORRY! OH MY GOD I AM A HORRIBLE PERSON! I haven't updated in like, a million years! Wow. I had literally one job. In all seriousness, I do apologize. I promise I will try to be better about updating! Scout's honor!**

**Anyway, how'd you like this one? Not super proud of it.. it's just kind of awkward. I don't know. Hopefully the next chapter will be better.**

**Remember to REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! Each and every review I get is like a Christmas present! Love you all xx**


	6. Ankle Biters

**Finally! Sorry it's taking me so long to update! We have stare testing this week and finals are coming up and just OHMYGOD.**

**Anyway, hope you like this chapter! More action coming up! **

* * *

The bridge of the Helicarrier was anything but comatose.

Individuals in navy blue SHIELD uniforms were hurrying about, clicking on keyboards, speaking into bluetooths, saying things like "Power check is a go" and "Engines 3 and 4 are functioning properly". All of the men and women were in shape and fit, although you could tell who were the senior agents by the coffee cups they were holding and the way they looked over the keyboard-typing agents' shoulders, checking their progress.

The bridge itself was, like, ginormous. Seriously, it was huge! The ceiling was at least sixteen feet high _and_ glass paneled. The sky through it was a celestial blue. There was a few stairs leading down to a platform that where the captain would probably stand, overlooking his crew. It was all a bit _Star Trek_. Zina had it compare it to _Next Generation_ because, well, Patrick Stewart.

Where the view screen would be in the _USS Enterprise_, an colossal window replaced an entire wall. You could see the Atlantic Ocean meeting the sky on the horizon and he ocean itself shrinking away as the Helicarrier gained altitude.

All in all, Zina was simply dazzled.

She noticed she wasn't the only one, either. Captain Rogers had left her side to wonder the platform they were currently standing on, which was a bit higher than the surrounding area. His eyebrows nearly disappeared in his hairline as he gazed about the vast room, hands deep in his trouser pockets. He did this little half smile thing and subtly shook his blonde head.

Zina nearly barfed because his adorableness was overwhelming.

Satisfied with the Captain's reaction, she turned to look at Doctor Banner.

The darker man had stalked towards the back of the room, his back facing it's largeness. His hands worried themselves as he looked up at the enormous SHIELD insignia on the wall in front of him (_Everything that has t do with this place is huge!_ Zina thought). He seemed slightly put off by the noise and controlled chaos of the whole ordeal.

Hopefully he'll get over it.

Zina pushed a loose fiery tendril behind her ear and strode over to Steve Rogers. She leaned over the railing as if to view the room properly. The grin on her face only grew when she glanced at the man next to her. "Pretty great, huh?"

Rogers gave sort of a half laugh. "Pretty great."

Zina was distracted from the immense sight by an authoritative female voice. "All engines operating. SHIELD Emergency Protocol 193.6 in effect."

"_Crap_." The teenager quickly ducked behind her super soldier friend as Agent Maria Hill walked down the center aisle and came to stand on the platform below and ahead of the duo, hands on hips and overlooking the crew like a lioness waiting for the kill.

Zina was pretty sure she was Agent Hill's kill.

Steve tensed as Zina cowered behind his large frame, but quickly recovered. "What - What are you doing?!"

He heard a heavy sigh from behind him. "Just... cover me, okay?"

Steve furrowed his brows and scanned the room for any signs of danger. HE came up with nothing. "From what?"

"From _her_!" Zina aggressively whispered. "Power-hungry, razor-sharp cheekbone lady standing like she's upset with you 'cause you were late for dinner."

"...The brunette?"

"_Yes, the brunette, Steve!_"

"But...Why?" He was whispering too, now. "She seemed like a strong willed woman who just wants to get the job done."

"Steve." Another agitated sigh. "She wants to put me in a rotisserie and eat me for Thanksgiving dinner."

"Oh."

"Yeah, she's - wait, 'Let's vanish'? What does that mean?"

Apparently, her interest in what Director Fury was saying outweighed her caution of Agent Hill, and she jumped out from behind the Captain and crept up behind the darkly dressed Director. She looked over his shoulder at the glass screens that she assumed contained information on the Helicarrier. She had no clue what in the hell it meant, so she scurried back to her place next to Steve, her long hair wildly flowing in her wake.

Good thing, too. The moment she reached Steve's side, Director Fury decided to turn on his heel and strode towards them.

"Gentlemen." His one eye glanced at Zina, who was currently spinning in a swivel chair at the conference table. "And young lady."

Zina gave the cheesiest smile she could without the fear that she might get shot.

Her surrounding muddled together as she spun in the surprisingly comfy chair. Everything was grey or blue or black, save the tan, brown, and black figures Which were Rogers, Banner, and Fury.

Actually, Fury was dressed in all black so he doesn't really count.

She saw the tan figure walk off towards the wall/window thingy, and Fury walk passed her to Banner.

Fury's change in his usual tone of voice made Zina almost fall out of her chair.

"Doctor, thank you for coming.

Zina thought that she should really stop spinning unless she wanted he upchuck her delicious (not) Chinese takeout from the night before.

Banner replied. "Thanks for asking nicely." Aw, how sweet. "So, how long am I staying?"

"_Forever_." Both men looked over at the sinister voice that had just emerged from the girl, who had stopped spinning in the chair. One face was confused. One face was getting real tired of her shit and only had one eye. Guess who was who. "I'm just kidding," she assured, and then muttered, "God, people these days, can't even take a freakin' joke."

Fury returned to the question. "Well, once we get out hands on the Tesseract, you're in the wind."

"Okay, _hold up_-"

Fury had to remind himself to count to ten. "Miss Romanoff-"

"-what in God's name-"

"_Miss Romanoff_-"

"-is the Tesseract?"

"The tesseract is a four-dimensional cube in the same way that a cube is a 3-dimensional square. It has the capacity to somehow draw power from the dark energy to become a nearly-unlimited energy source."

The young Romanoff and Director Fury stared at Doctor Banner, who had rattled off the explanation like he was a living, breathing Wikipedia page.

Zina didn't really know what to say. "Uhh...Okay?"

Banner smiled tautly at Zina and turned back to Fury. "Anywhere, where are you with that?"

Fury motioned to someone standing on the level below them. "We're sweeping every wirelessly accessible camera on the planet."

Zina's ears perked up. "Hey, Philippe!" She scurried to lean over the railing to look at him. "Long time, no see. You know, I'm still mad at you."

"That's great," he focused back on Banner. "Cellphones, laptops... If it's connected to a satellite, it's eyes and ears for us."

"Does that include mine? Cause all I have on here are pictures of Ryan Gosling's abs."

"That's still not gonna find them in time," Natasha spoke up from from her kneeling position next to a computer.

Zina sighed. Ignored yet again.

She decided to let the adults talk and wondered over the the swivel chairs and conference table again, dropping heavily down. She reached to her pocket and slipped out her phone, the bright green case contrasting with her pale hand. She attempted to beat her high score on Temple Run for a while, hearing snippets of the conversation going on a couple feet away. Something about algorithms and science.

It had been less than five minutes when her name was called and she looked up. Her phone vibrated and she immediately looked back down, seeing the screen saying Run Again! "Damn." She glanced up to see her sister guiding Doctor Banner out of the room towards a hallway.

"Am I supposed to go with them, or do I have to stay in here?"

Fury gave her one last threatening look before he waved her off. Zina quickly gathered her purse and cellphone and ran after the doctor and her older sister.

* * *

Loki watched as the humans worked on the machine that he would need to complete his plan. His brilliant scheme. He would finally be king. Maybe not of Asgard, but of this pathetic waste of celestial space. The inhabitance of the planet called it Earth. He called it Midgard. But it was all the same.

He watched from afar as Erik Selvig instructed his coworkers. He had a blissful smile on his unshaven face as Barton came up to him and they conversed.

Barton. Clint Barton. Hawkeye, the expert marksman. Obviously not quick enough to dodge Loki's scepter, considering his eyes were now unnaturally blue with he Tesseract's lust. Loki silently congratulated himself in gaining Barton to his servants. Now he had a view of the inner workings of SHIELD. Profiles on the main agents: Mr. Stark, the egotistical billionaire. Captain Rogers, the man out of time. The Doctor, the real monster in the situation. Then, of course, there was the Black Widow, apparently named for her gender and her assassin skills. It would be easy to get under her skin. He had Barton, her partner and coworker. Yes, having Barton was the ultimate gambling chip.

Loki stood and began to walk over to the two men. Selvig smiled and greeted him. "Hey! The Tesseract has shown me so much!" His smile grew. "It's more than knowledge! It's...It's _truth_!"

Loki smiled kindly back at him. "I know... What has it shown you, Agent Barton?"

The man turned around to face the god, his eyes seeming to glow. "My next target. And yours."

"Oh really?" Now Loki was intrigued. "Please, enlighten me."

Barton informed dutifully. "Agent Romanoff is like the glue that holds SHIELD together. She's strong, independent, and a master at masking her emotions." He picked up his bow, polishing it with his elbow. "She's almost impossible to crack, but we need to break her. Break her, and we break SHIELD."

Loki raised his eyebrows. "And what do you suggest?"

Barton hesitated for a moment, his eyes loosing a bit of their shine. Loki tightened his grip on his scepter, but as soon as he had noticed it, it was gone. Barton's eyes were even brighter. "Natasha has a younger sister, Vincenzina Romanoff. She's the only family Natasha has left. If Natasha cares about anything in this world, it's her. Zina is very impulsive and not strong at all. She's just a teenager. If we get Zina, we get Natasha. We get Natasha, we get SHIELD."

Loki smiled, pleased with this newfound information. "Ah, sentiment." He shook his head. "So, Agent Barton. Tell me what you need."

"I need a distraction. And an eyeball."

* * *

**Ahhhhhh story development! What is Loki planning?! Is Zina safe?! THESE ARE THE QUESTIONS OF THE UNIVERSE. Ehh, not really. Also: sorry this one is pretty short as well. Please forgive me! Anyway, please REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! I want to know if people are liking things so far (: New chapter up soon!**

**~Z xx**


	7. Thrift Shop

Two hours. Two whole hours. That's how long Zina had been silent. She was sure it was a new record for her. During her muteness, she had gotten through eight days of her independent study work, chewed off her fingernails, and braided and re-braided her hair at least a dozen times. She wasn't sure how much more of this silence she could handle.

She glanced across the lab at Doctor Banner. Every since Natasha had left Zina and the Doctor in the shiny white room, he went to work on whatever he was working on and hadn't uttered a word. There was the occasional sigh, or shuffling of feet as he maneuvered his rolly-chair to a new position. Other than that, not a sound escaped the greying man. She had thought about trying to start a conversation, but she didn't like the direction she figured it would go. _"Hey, just to let you know, I'm aware that you're this huge big green roary thing and I really would prefer it if you didn't squash me like a spider on an 8 year old girl's wall. Have a nice day."_ Yeah, might wanna steer clean of that subject for a while. But she knew he had to break the silence sooner or later, else she might spontaneously combust. That would be messy.

Here goes nothing, she thought with a sigh. "So, you're like, a super smart person, right?"

Banner startled slightly, almost dropping the pencil he was using to write his notes. After smoothing out his fluffy hair and gaining his bearings, Banner glanced above his thin rimmed glasses at her. He seemed a bit put off by the question. The man scratched the back of his tan neck, brows furrowed together. Zina waited in earnest, twirling a tendril around her fingers. Finally came his reply. "Uh... I, umm, I'm a doctor, and an astrophysicist."

_Okay, we're getting somewhere_. Zina set her pencil down in between the pages of her textbook and altered her position to face the doctor across the small room. She leaned into the desk, pushing her glasses up her nose. "Okay...I know the doctor part, but what exactly do astrophysicists do?"

Banner quirked a bushy brow at the ginger. He seemed to be searching for the right response, his mouth opening and closing and his honey eyes wandered away towards the ceiling. He pursed his lips. "Well, uhh... It's kinda like..." The thin rimmed glasses came off and a hand ran through his hair. "You know, I'm not entirely sure how to explain it."

"Well, okay, let's think." Zina relaxed her sitting position, placing her chin in her hand. "_Astro_ has to do with space, yeah? And _physics_ is just, well, physics." She began braiding her curly hair for the umpteenth time, pulling all of her fiery locks over one of her shoulders. "So astrophysics must mean something like... _physics in space_?" She looked at Banner for his approval.

Eyebrows raised in surprise, he gave kind of a laugh/sigh thing. "Yeah, yeah I guess kinda like that."

"What are you studying, or working on, or... whatever it is you're doing?"

Banner looked down at the file on the Tesseract SHIELD had given him flipping through the many pages. "It's uhh, it's called the Tesseract."

"Oh, that thing you guys were talking about earlier?" Zina asked, her fingers seemingly subconsciously weaving her long, bushy hair. "The space cube thing that steals energy from dark - what was it called? The dark stuff?"

"Dark matter," Banner clarified. "Astronomers and astrophysicists, like me," he placed a hand on his purple button up, "have discovered that the gravitational effects observed in our universe don't match the amount of matter seen." He was really getting into it now. He was trying to put it in the simplest terms possible. Most people would stare at him with a vacant expression, eyes unfocused, but the young Romanoff seemed to lean in with every word he said, so he continued his explanation. "To account for these differences, it appears that the universe contains a mysterious form of matter that we can't observe. We call it '_dark matter'_."

Zina let the information sink into her brain. "So is dark matter is like... like when you look up at the sky at night, you see stars and planets and intergalactic stuff, but the stuff in between, all the black. That's the dark matter?"

"Ehh, kind of." The doctor's sitting position had relaxed immensely, his elbows on his desk. Zina figured it was because he was talking about his what he liked, his passion in life. She loved hearing people talk about what they loved, and even though she may not be a huge fan of science, she wanted to hear what Doctor Banner had to say about the things he knew like the back of his hand. "Throughout the universe, there's approximately six times as much dark matter as normal visible matter, or baryonic matter. That's like matter that comprises you, the desk you're sitting at, this planet, and the stars."

"Wow." Zina sniffled. "That's a lot of matter."

"Yes it is."

Zina wanted to return to the subject they began with. "So, what does the Tesseract have to do with dark matter?"

"Well," started Banner, hands clasped in front of him, "The Tesseract, supposably, is able to harness the energy that dark matter emits. Theoretically, it could be a completely clean energy source."

"Woah." Zina tied a hairtie at the end of her braid and threw it over her shoulder. "Well, gas prices would drop."

Banner chuckled at the teenager. "Yes, that would be one advantage."

They dissolved into an awkward is the conversation over? mode. Banner returned to the file he had been reading previously and Zina returned to her school work. But there was still an unspoken question hanging between them, and Zina couldn't help but ask. "So, why is SHIELD having you locate the Tesseract anyway?"

Banner's eyes became unfocused, and he slowly looked up at the questioning redhead. Zina could already tell he would rather not disclose that information. But, in the end, her innocent look won him over. "Apparently, someone stole it."

"What?!" Zina pushed herself away from the desk, appalled. "But... Like... How can someone just steal something from SHIELD?! That's pretty much impossible!"

"Apparently not for Loki."

"Well Loki-" Zina stopped short, her face quickly contorting from disbelief to confusion. "Wait, wait, wait. Did you say _Loki_?" She leaned over her desk, emphasizing her question. "As in Norse god Loki, adopted brother of Thor, who has some major daddy issues and low self esteem?"

"Uhh... Yes, I suppose." Now Banner was confused. "How do you know who Loki is?"

"I read about him last year in my English class," Zina clarified, leaning back and crossing her feat on the desk. "But... But I thought it was just all myth and legend."

"According to SHIELD, it's not."

"So, let's recap," Zina sat up in her seat. "There's a space cube called the Tesseract that has the power to give all of humanity free, clean energy, but a the pissy adoptive God of Mischief, who is apparently real now, committed petty theft and stole it from SHIELD." She sighed. "Well, I gotta give props to the guy for actually _stealing_ something from SHIELD. That takes some skill."

"...Are you commending him?"

"Uhh... No."

Banner shook his head at the girl and returned to his research, scratching the back of his neck. He was glad their conversation hadn't wandered towards his, uhh, alter ego. He was already a bit cautious and uncomfortable being in the same room as her. Sure, he was like that with pretty much everyone, but especially her. She was just a kid. Bruce glanced above his glasses at her. Her pail face was scrunched up from lying on her arm, a few tendrils loose from her braid. She was writing something in a notebook - he assumed homework - and humming a melody she thought he couldn't hear. When he looked at her, he saw so much potential. She much she could do, with her witty speech and outgoing attitude towards life. That why he was so scared to hurt her. You can fix broken lab equipment, you can't fix a broken girl.

Zina's questioning voice brought him out of his musings. "If you're an astrophysicist, then you know biology, right?"

His brows furrowed. "You kind of have to know biology to be an astrophysicist," he clarified. "Why?"

Zina looked down at her homework. She had no idea how to do this, considering she hasn't been to school in a week because she's been on a secret SHIELD mission... Kinda. She fixed her glasses on the bridge of her nose and looked up at the man across the room. "Uhm - I kinda need help on my homework. It's about, like, sex-linked traits and pedigrees and stuff." She straightened her shirt on her torso, a bit embarrassed. Banner probably thought she was as dumb as a pole, not even getting how genetic traits are passed down when he knew the freaking physics of space.

Zina fiddled with her textbook pages when she heard the wheels of a chair. She was happily surprised to see Doctor Banner straighten out his tan suit pants and make her way over to her. He grabbed a discarded foldable chair in the corner and set it up next to her. Bringing the textbook closer to him he said, "Let's see what we have here..."

* * *

Zina walked out onto the bridge of the Helicarrier in a terrific mood. She had finished all of her independent study science work! With the help of Bruce, of course.

Yes, it seemed that they were on a first name basis with each other now. After the initial help me with my homework ice beaker, the two had dove into comfortable conversation. Zina told him how life is with Natasha Romanoff as her older sister. She told Bruce stories of her adventures with Agent Coulson, the shenanigans she pulls on the SHIELD base, and the reason she's so scared of Agent Hill. In turn, Doctor Banner spoke about his work in India and on gamma radiation. He tried his hardest to not let the conversation stray to the Other Guy. He could tell she wanted to ask, but couldn't gain the courage. It was the unspoken question lingering in the dark corner of the lab.

She strode passed the conference table, her purse gently hitting her thigh with each step. She looked around at the navy blue uniformed employees typing on computers like brainwashed children. _In a way, they kind of are_, she thought.

Anyway, back to terrific mood.

"_Your grammy, your aunty, your momma, your mammy, I'll take those flannel zebra jammies, second-hand, I rock that mothafucka_." (If rapping was an Olympic sport, she'd get the gold metal every year.) Zina rapped in a soft tone as she looked around the large room that was the bridge of the Helicarrier. Sunlight streamed down from the enormous window in front of her, reflecting off of the shiny floors. The floors were so reflective, in fact, that she could see herself in them. She had taken her red hair out of its braid (_again_) and had carelessly thrown it atop her head, a few kinky-curly tendrils loose. Her _Keep Calm and Carry On_ sweatshirt looked actually kind of good on her, thank you very much.

She gazed at the action going on around her. Navy blue scurried around everywhere like ants. She caught tidbits of conversation as she walked. Some were talking of minor issues: some idiot was trying to revive the Nazi party, a certain political leader had been kidnapped. Most were discussing the more major issue at hand: Loki was at was pretty much controlled chaos.

"_The built-in onsie with the socks on that mothafucka!_" She searched the room for a familiar face. There was Director Fury, overlooking the whole scene and being all dark and threatening. Definitely _not_ gonna go hand out with him. Natasha was nowhere in sight; probably training or something. She seemed to do that often. Zina on the other hand, well... Let's just say she was rather good at _vertical running_.

Ha. Pitch Perfect. She'd have to watch that with Steve during their lesson on pop culture. He would totally _die_.

_Speak of the devil. _Her eyes landed on something she knew quite well: the back of a head with a receding hairline and a high-trouser-clad behind. Well if it wasn't her lucky day.

She ceased her rap when she noticed that they were in the midst of a conversation. Oh, she definitely needed to hear this. She crept up slowly and silently, thanking SHIELD gods that her moccasins weren't squeaking against the polished floor.

Coulson: "I mean, if it's not too much trouble..."

Steve: "No, no, it's... fine."

Coulson:

Steve:

Coulson: "It's a vintage set. Took me a couple of years to collect them all."

Steve:

Coulson:

Steve:

Coulson: "Near mint. Slight foxing around the edges but-"

Okay, she couldn't take it anymore.

"Heeeeeeeeey gentlemen." Zina shimmied to get between them, throwing her each of her arms around their shoulders. Steve tensed a little bit, but she pretended not to notice. She looked over at Coulson, who was now red in the face from being caught in the act of fanboy-ing. Coulson glared at Zina with the passion of a thousand burning suns, but she simply rolled her eyes. She knew she would totally get payback for that later. "You know, Phillis, that color red looks _so_ good on you!"

"Vincenzina Romanoff, I swear-"

She decided to ignore the threat that was seeping out of Coulson's mouth and turned her head swiftly at Steve. The handsome blonde was peering down at her with a smile on his face that reached his eyes.

_Don't turn to mush. Keep it together. Keep your cool._

"So, what's cookin' good lookin'?" She nudged the Captain with her hip, and then she thought "_Oh my god I just booty bumped Captain America wHAT IS LIFE_".

Steve Rogers' _blue blue blue_ eyes left her face momentarily, and she thought she made a huge mistake. What was she thinking?! Steve Rogers is from a time when woman wore a neckline up to their chin! She needed to fix this and fast.

"Its...Its a modern-day expression." She tried to clarify herself. "It just means, like, 'what's up' or 'what's going on'. I wasn't trying to hit on you or anything, I swear!"

Steve looked back at her and smirked. "Really?"

"Yes, seriously truthfully, I-" Zina stopped short. Wait, was... _Was Steve Rogers playing around with her_? No way.

"Although, you are incredibly se- I mean, _strikingly handsome_," she said in a relaxed tone. "But don't let it get to you're head, blondie." She lifted the arm that was resting on his shoulder and poked the back of his head.

"Zina, quit making a fool of yourself."

She whipped her head around to glare at the senior agent. "Shut the hell up, Coulson. I wasn't the one just now asking him to sign my 'near mint, slight foxing around the edges' trading cards."

Coulson's eyes narrowed so much he looked half-Chinese. It was actually quite menacing. "I swear, Vincenzina Romanoff, if you breathe one word of this to your sister-"

"Oh, _relax_, Philly Cheese." Zina shook her head, dismissing the notion. "What would I gain by telling Nat?" Coulson seemed comforted by what she had told him, so she added under her breath, "I didn't say anything about Clint, though..."

Coulson stiffened at the archer's name, but gave no other indication that he had even heard the teenager speak. Zina thought that was sufficiently weird.

What also strikes her as sufficiently weird was her favorite archer's absence. She assumed he was just on a mission, but lately she wasn't so sure. Why would he been on a mission by himself if SHIELD was putting together what seemed like a team? But then again, maybe it was like, a top priority mission. Zina missed him, none the less. She missed their water gun fights and when they would watch _Supernatural_ on Netflix for three hours straight and how he would take her to ice cream when she was in a bad mood and. Clint may be an expert marksman, but he was her best friend first. She wanted to ask about the situation, but she figured there would be a better time.

"Anyway, how's the search for the Norse god Loki going?"

"How do you know-"

"Phil, _please_. Doctor Banner told me." She started rocking on her heels, arms still over each mans' shoulders. "_So_, how goes it?"

Steve looked over the teen's head at Coulson. He wasn't sure if he should disclose any information to the girl. She was still a kid, she didn't need to be wrapped up in all this. Though it was a bit too late for that. Steve saw Agent Coulson subtly nod, so he filled Zina in. "Well, we haven't located him yet. But apparently, we're got every, uhh, sata... sata-"

Zina helped him out. "Satellite?"

"Yes, thanks. Every satellite and_wirelessly accessible camera,_" Steve said this very articulate, trying not to mess the wording up, "searching for him now. We should come up with a location any-"

Suddenly, a really annoying alarm went off from one of the nearby computers. "We got a hit," informed one of the agents. "A 67% match." A different alarm started beeping. "Wait, cross match: 79%"

"Wow," Zina said, looking at Steve. "Speak of the devil." She extracted her arms from around their shoulders as Coulson became the _I am in charge here so shut the hell up_ guy. He strode quickly over to the agent, with Zina trailing not far behind, wanting to be in the midst of the action. "Location?"

"Stuttgart, Germany. 28 Konigstrasse" A map became enlarged on the computer screen, showing what looked like an opera house. Another picture appeared on screen of a man's face. His pale skin contrasted greatly with his slicked back, dark hair. His face gave off the angular look, with the pronounced cheekbones and long nose. "He isn't exactly hiding."

"Wait. Hold up." Zina moved Coulson out of the way as best she could to get a better look at the man. She leaned in towards the screen, squinting her eyes. "No way in hell that's Loki."

She was suddenly pulled back by the back of her shirt and almost fell over her own two feet. She seemed to have a knack for that sort of thing. She glared at Coulson, who questioned her judgement. "Why not?"

"Because he's hot," she said plainly, as if it was the obvious answer. "The bad guy cannot be hot! It's in the code."

Coulson looked almost half amused. "And what code is this?"

"_The_ code! It's just _the_ code." Phil still looked at her weird. "Whatever, Philly Cheese." She spun on her heel and strode back up the stairs to Captain Rogers, who looked antsy to get going. Zina smiled. The soldier, always ready for duty. "So, El Capitan, ready to grill this guy on the 'Made in the USA' frying pan of justice?"

Steve chuckled, rolling up his flanneled sleeves a bit more. "Well, when you put it that way-"

"Captain." The blonde and redhead looked over at Director Nick Fury, who was giving Steve a look. "You're up."

Steve inhaled deeply. _Oh_, Zina thought, _He's doing his soldier thing again_. Steve grew about two inches as he straightened his spine. He now looked overpowering and ready to kick some villain butt. He gave a slight nod to Fury and began a brisk walk towards the door.

Zina stared after him. "Wait, where are you going?"

Steve grinned back at Zina. "To grill this guy on the All-American frying pan of justice, of course."

* * *

**Oh my goooood sorry it took long. The second half of this chapter is kinda awkward, but oh well. And THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU to everyone who has reviewed! If I could send you all cookies I totally would!**

**Ahhh I'm so super excited to write the next chapter! Zina has some great, badass, and heart-wrenching moments in store! Also: In no way am I an expert in astrophysics. It's called Google, people.**

**Please REVIEW! Tell me what you think! I have put my email up in my bio in case anyone has any questions or comments that you don't want to put in the review (: Love you all xx**

**~Z**


	8. Grow Up

**_OH MY_**** GOD I'm sorry it took so long to update! I had finals, and then graduation, and then I went on vacation to Washington DC, and I barely had time to even breathe! So I figured I should reward your waiting with a nice, loooong chapter, my longest one yet. I hope you all enjoy it!**

**Sadly, I don't own the Avengers. BUT ONE DAY!**

**Anyways, READ ON!**

* * *

_So I cried just a little then I'll dry my eyes, cause I'm not a little girl no more._

* * *

The music was fantastic, he had to admit. It was nothing like Loki had ever heard. The Midgardians on the lower level of the concert hall let their fingers travel up and down the necks of the stringed instruments. He had read a bit about Midgard's music when he was a small boy, learned the great composers' names. He remembered a few: Beethoven, Bach, Tchaikovsky. Perhaps, once this pathetic realm was his to command, he would have a personal musician play the songs of Asgard and Midgard alike. That is one sliver of this planet's culture that he is willing to keep alive.

Loki strolled the balcony, overlooking the gala. The building the event was housed in was quite large with smooth, white marble all around. He slicked his onyx hair back, glanced over the banister, and smiled. The humans, in their fine linens and gems, gathered to listen to their superior's speech. They all spoke in a guttural tongue that was unfamiliar to him, but no matter. He clutched his scepter lower on it's shaft, lightly shaking it at the crowd below him. The petty humans.

Loki traveled down the marble steps in time with the strings, his suit jacket flowing out behind him. He had blended well with their society, wearing the respective clothes, acting politely to the few people he had seen in the street earlier. He was glad for his disguise as he strolled up behind an official looking man who he guessed was a guard. Before the man could turn around fully, Loki swung his gold scepter, knocking the man off his feet.

No turning back now.

Gasps filled the room as all the men and women stood completely still. His smile grew wider and more sinister as he lunged at the old man and seized him, the one Barton needed to get the Iridium. He knew that the agency SHIELD would be at location in a matter of minutes, but that was the plan, after all. Get taken in as a prisoner, manipulate the heroes, get what he wanted. He'd done his research on the heroes, knew their weak spots. He assumed that the monster would be their easiest to break. But then he remembered the widow. No, she would be the easiest to crack. He remembered Barton's advice: get to her cherished younger sibling.

People began to shout at him, mutter between themselves in shock, but Loki paid no mind to their squabbling. He flipped the old man down on the stone table with so much force, he was surprised the man didn't "black out", as the humans called it. The crowd shrunk away as the dark haired Asgardian held the man down on the table and more people began to yell and shout in his direction. Yet they made no move to stop him. The cowards.

Loki pulled the machine from the pocket inside his coat, holding it above the old man threateningly. The man below him struggled, but stilled once his gaze landed on the silver instrument held in Loki's pale hand. The man's eyes widened as the machine began to spin and glow an eery blue. Loki let a small smile drift onto his chiseled features, silently thanking the man for widening his eyes. It would make his job much easier.

* * *

Zina didn't dare even breathe. Her right leg had already fallen asleep and she was starting to get a crick in her neck due to how awkwardly she had positioned herself in the cargo rack of the Quinjet. Her fiery red hair clung to her sweaty face and her glasses were fogged. Yup, definitely should've changed into something that was _not_ a sweatshirt. She had stayed under this tarp for at least forty minutes and she wasn't sure if it was worth it anymore. She now had eighty bucks less in her Emergency Bribe Fund, thanks to the scrawny young security guard and his unintelligence. She probably could've convinced him to let her on the jet with forty bucks, but she had been dumb and started at eighty. Or she could've just told him that she was acquaintances with The Hulk. Then she would still have all of her money.

So there she lay under a tarp, uncomfortable and eighty bucks poorer. Yet she refused to move a muscle; she had to wait for the right time to make her presence known. She figured that it had been long enough to be pretty far away from the Helicarrier so that Natasha wouldn't turn the whole jet around. Zina couldn't go back now. She was in the middle of the action, or... under a tarp, rather. Either way, there was no way she was _not_ gonna be a part of this whole Avengers thing, whether Fury, or her big sister, for that matter, wanted it or not.

She knew that Captain Steve Rogers sat about two seats away from where she was, and Nat was most likely the copilot of the small jet. She figured that now would be a good time to present herself, considering if she waited any longer, her body might freeze in this position. She curled her right toes inside the neon Nike's she had changed into earlier. (Might as well be prepared to run from super villains.) Well, her whole right leg would be no help to her at all. She quietly breathed a ginger tendril out of her face as she prepared to sit up.

She stilled her movements at once when she heard sudden footsteps getting closer. They were those of heeled boots, and the only person on the jet that she knew had heeled boots was... _shitshitshitshit_.

There was nothing Zina could do before the heavy object came in contact with her abdomen. She let out a loud "_Ughhhh_" and threw the tarp off of her face to get more oxygen to replace the wind that was knocked out of her. Th teenager attempted to clamber out of the cargo hold. Unfortunately, she ended up crawling over the steel bars, tumbling over the seats below, and rolling onto the floor of the Quinjet.

_Well, that's one way to make a dramatic entrance_, thought the young girl.

Zina stared up at her older sister as Natasha cursed rather loudly in Russian. It wasn't often that Zina got the one-up on her sister, so she relished the surprised look on her slim face. That feeling soon vanished as her right side exploded in pins and needles. Her head felt like it had split down the middle, and her sister's yelling didn't help.

"Listen, Nat, I think my brain squeezed out of my ears when you dropped that bag of bricks on me, so _I have no idea what you're saying_." Zina shut her eyes tightly with a grimace on her face, her head rolling from side to side on the cold floor. Her hazel eyes finally opened and took in the tall, burly blond standing a few feet away. He was in his stars and stripes uniform, which, Zina noticed, accentuated the muscles in his upper body.

_Why do we always end up here?_ the teenager asked herself.

"Oh, hey Steve."she said brightly, despite her pounding head. The super soldier's brows furrowed and his mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. He probably flipped his star-spangled lid when all of a sudden - hey, a wild Zina Romanoff appears, sweatshirt twisted and curly hair sticking to her face.

What a lovely image.

Zina noticed her sister seemed to calm herself rather quickly, considering a fifteen year old girl had just spontaneously appeared in a jet headed to apprehend an alien fugitive in Germany. The woman smoothed out her black shirt, stood up straight, and glared down at her sister.

"Vincenzina Fontaine Romanoff. What in God's holy name are you doing here?"

Zina coughed, her eyes squeezed shut. Her right leg was tingling badly from the sudden pressure put on it. "Uhh..." she hesitated, bringing her hand up to wipe her upper lip of sweat. "Sightseeing?" From the look on her sister's face, it was obvious that she wasn't buying it. Zina sighed. "Okay, yeah, that answer was total bullshit." She turned towards Captain Rogers. "Nice outfit, by the way, El Capitan. 'Stars And Stripes Forever', eh?" She sat up from the cold floor, ignoring the slight dizziness in her brain. She turned to her sister, who's death glare had not subsided. "Okay, I snuck on, happy?"

Natasha's pouty lips pursed. "Not particularly, no."

The ginger teen exhaled exasperatedly. "I used $80 from my Emergency Bribe Fund to get on the jet." Zina looked up at her pretty, agent sister, her puppy-dog eyes appearing to big for her head under her large glasses.

"Do you really think that look is gonna work on me, sis?"

Zina promptly turned her gaze to Steve Rogers, who had attempted to creep back into the shadows. The Captain made eye contact with the young girl, which, apparently, was not a super great idea. The big hazel eyes, the pouty face, he didn't know how long he could simply stand there and not offer Zina to get ice cream with him.

Thankfully, Natasha stepped in. "Oh no, you are not going to bring Rogers into this." She stepped in between the teen and the man. "This is between you and me, squirt."

"Ugh." Zina groaned, knowing she'd been cornered. She exhaled heavily, wiping her sweaty hands on her jeans. "I just... I just wanna _do_ something!" The exclamation was unexpected, and she looked up at her older sister, sincerity evident in her eyes. "I don't - I don't want to have to be stuck in some room, being no help at all, left to be babysat while everyone is out saving the world!" Zina let her body fall back onto the ground, sighing audibly. "I mean, the Black Widow is my freaking sister! I'm not a kid anymore, Nat! Okay, so maybe I can't throw a knife or shoot a gun, but I know basic defensive and attack skills, and if that doesn't work, then I'll just talk to them until they're dead." Zina sat up again, pushing her glasses further up the bridge of her nose. She looked up at her sister, pleading silently with her.

Natasha gazed down at Zina, her brow flattening. She exhaled heavily, extending a slim arm towards Zina, who still sat on the floor. The girl gladly took the hand, and Natasha hauled her up off the floor. She studied her baby sister for a few moments, sighing. "No."

Zina's frown deepened. "No - what do you mean, _no_?"

Natasha took a seat in the copilot seat, looking back at her sister. "By 'no', I mean 'no'." She turned towards the view screen, ignoring the pilots questioning gaze. "There's no way I'm letting you in on this mission, or any mission, for that matter."

Zina scoffed. Of course her plan wouldn't work. She didn't even know why she came aboard the jet in the first place. It was a disaster waiting to happen. "Yeah, of course, cause I'm just your kid sister who doesn't know anything and can't take care of herself."

"Vincenzina, we're not doing this right now."

Zina threw herself down in a seat at the very back of the jet, leaning on the door. "We're never going to 'do this right now' 'cause I'm _'just a kid_' and I '_don't understand_'," she mumbled, crossing her arms angrily. Natasha either didn't hear her or ignored her. Zina didn't really care.

She decided that it was just too damn hot in the aircraft, so she tore her sweatshirt over her head, showing the plain grey t-shirt she wore underneath. She reached down to stuff her jacket under her seat when her hand slammed into something hard. Placing her sweatshirt next to her feet, she extended her arm further under her seat, feeling something square, smooth, and with... pages? Thankful for the shadows that surrounded her as to not draw unwanted attention, she pulled the heavy object out from under her seat.

It was a 10th grade Algebra 2 book. She flipped open the front cover and sure enough, "_This book belongs to: Vincenzina Fontaine Romanoff_". Hmm. She must've left it on here when her, Phil, and Steve were on their way. _Was this still the same day? God, it seems like forever ago I got sucked into this circus._

She placed the math book in her lap, fingering the pages. She tucked a stray strand of red hair behind her ear, too angry to pay attention to anything. That's also the reason that she didn't notice Steve Rogers until he was seated next to her.

She startled a bit as she realized he was right next to her, but she sighed and turned away. She really wasn't in the mood for his freedom speech at the moment.

Despite her obvious uninterest, the man spoke. "You know... I-I don't know if this helps, or - or means anything, but..." He obviously was not good at this. Zina smiled slightly to herself, happy her face was turned away. "But, I think your sister's like that because she, she just doesn't want you to get hurt. And I... Well, I think she's right."

Zina turned to him, a sarcastic smile on her face. "Yeah, not really helping my mood, Stevie."

Steve's cheeks went a bit pink and he looked away. He was about to continue when the pilot spoke a little too loudly in the small jet. "We're 3.7 miles out of Stuttgart, Germany."

Steve stood up and began to rush over to the view screen. He looked back at the young girl with the fiery red hair as she sulked in the corner, book on her lap.

He just prayed to God that she wouldn't take any drastic measures to prove herself. Although, even if he had only known her for under twenty four hours, he knew that prayer was a bit too far-fetched.

* * *

Zina pretended she didn't notice the pilot, her sister, and Steve discussing the current location of Loki. She pretended she didn't hear that he was actively gathering the citizens in the plaza in front of the concert hall. She pretended she didn't care as the jet landed a few blocks away from the situation (although she wasn't quite sure how they could've landed a jet in a busy city without anybody noticing. Fucking SHIELD, man.) She pretended she didn't slip out of the jet after Steve Rogers, clutching the thick math book to her chest. She scurried behind a dumpster and watched as the jet gained altitude surprisingly quickly and quietly for an aircraft. Her eyes followed it as it disappeared into the night. Or rather, behind a tall, old building.

What on Earth was she thinking? First, she snuck _onto_ the jet, now she's sneaking _off_?!

Zina wasn't even sure what she was doing, but, dammit, she was gonna do it, and do it right.

She decided it was probably best to take a different route than Steve had, considering he literally _climbed a storm drain to the roof of a building_. She set off in the dark alleyway towards where she knew the Loki situation was taking place.

The night was cold and the alleys she trekked through didn't help to stop the chills that were running up her spine. Thankfully, she was reaching the plaza at a quick rate, so the city lights kept her from total darkness. She jumped a few times, mostly because of the cats that lingered near made a ruckus. At least she told herself it was cats. She wasn't taking any chances, though, and ran the last block to the square, her breath coming out in misty puffs

Out of breath and sweating, despite the cold, Zina held her Algebra book close to her chest as she mingled with the frightened crowd of Germans. People were screaming, trying to run away. Many of them were older than twenty - she was by far the youngest person in the group. She would also stick out like a sore thumb with her bright hair.

Zina was being pushed around and jostled about, no one was really paying attention to her. She was just another frightened citizen. Except, she wasn't. She somehow made her way to the edge of the crowd, towards where she figured was the "front". She was trying to get a visual on Loki, but people were running into her so often, it became difficult to even stand up.

Then she heard it: "Kneel before me!"

After that, it wasn't to difficult to spot the Norse god in question.

Loki stood above everyone else, atop a table, making him seem to tower over the common man. He was dressed in what Zina guessed was traditional Norse armor, including a flowing, rich green cape, and a pretty bizarre looking helmet. He was tall, pale, and his facial features were pointed and sharp. His onyx hair was slicked back and flipped out from under his helmet. The scepter he held was taller than him, the top glowing an unnatural blue. Zina took notice of one particular thing, though.

_Damn, he was hot._

His attractiveness did not sway Zina from realizing that he was an evil alien mastermind who was probably planning to kill them all, so, of course, she attempted to run.

She did not get far. After three steps, a figure appeared, blocking her path. Her wide eyes traveled up the intruders body. Leather boots, black trousers, gold and green battle armor. But... But, that's impossible! She looked back at the Loki who had just spoken, and then at the Loki standing in front of her now, sneering down at her.

What. The. _Hell_.

She realized that the crowd she was encompassed in was surrounded by at least half a dozen Loki's now, their scepters held high. It was at that moment that she really wished that she was back on the Helicarrier, asking Bruce Banner for help on her homework.

Zina gazed back the first Loki she had seen, the real one, she presumed. He was shouting over the screams and terrified yells of the people below him. "I said, _KNEEL_!"

Everyone in the crowded plaza began to sink to their knees, most likely ruining their expensive gowns and suit pants. Zina realized that she was still standing while everyone was shrinking in fear, so she quickly dropped to her knees. She silently sent a prayer to Coulson, thanking him for not letting her get expensive pants.

Zina looked around her. Men and women alike seemed terrified of Loki, and she didn't blame them. He was down right scary.

Once the group before him was kneeling, Loki smiled and began to speak. "Is not this simpler?" Loki began to wade through the human beings, holding his hands high. "Is this not your natural state?" Zina tried to keep her eyes down, she really truly did, but in the end her hazel eyes clashed with Loki's bright blue ones, the same blue that emanated from his scepter. Although they're eye contact was only a split second, Zina felt Loki's eyes bore into hers, almost as if he was looking into her soul, regarding her deepest, darkest secrets. Almost as if... He knew her.

The moment only lasted two seconds before Loki continued walking through the people and continued his speech. "It's the unspoken truth of humanity that you crave subjugation. The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life's joy in a mad scramble for power... for identity."

Almost silent whispers caused Zina to turn her head towards two men, probably in their mid-twenties. They spoke quietly to each other in rough German, and Zina tried to cypher out what they were saying. Her German was a little rusty, but she listened close.

"_Dude, what the fuck is he even saying?_"

"_I don't know man, but he's total bat-shit crazy._"

Zina would've snorted out a laugh if the circumstances were different. She turned her attention back to Loki as he continued to talk as though he had already taken over the world. "You were made to be ruled. In the end, you will always kneel."

Suddenly, someone began to stand next to Zina, and she looked up to see the face of an old man with grey, thinning hair, his features hard and stoic. Zina ducked her head down, but she knew it was hard not to notice the bright red curls erupting from her head. Still, she clutched her math book to her heart for dear life.

The old man stood to his full height, not that much taller than Zina herself. He looked at Loki in the eyes and spoke with a strong voice. "Not to men like you."

Loki seemed amused. He chuckled and gazed at the old man as if he were a child, too naive to understand. "There are no men like me."

"There are always men like you."

Loki smiled and raise his scepter, pointing it at the old man next to Zina. The teenager began to panic. Loki wasn't gonna kill this guy, right? _Of course he's gonna kill this guy you asshat he's an evil god with daddy issues what did you think?_ Zina began to breath faster than normal, her heart beat speeding up at an alarming rate.

Loki sneered at the old man. "Look to your elder people, and let him be an example." His scepter seemed to glow brighter and even more artificial as he directed it at the man standing right next to Zina.

A split second. It was a split second decision. Zina wasn't aware of her movements as it was happening and time seemed to slow down as she rose to stand in front of the man and screamed "NO!"

The blood was rushing in her ears as Loki slowly lowered his scepter, smiling once again. He tilted his head to the side like a confused animal. "Another rebel." Then, it seemed as though a revelation had dawned on him. "Ahh. You must be the spider's sister."

What was once determination turned to downright fear in Zina's eyes. '_The spider's sister? Did he mean Natasha? But - But that's impossible, how does he_-' Her stream of consciousness was cut short by Loki's words.

"By your stunned silence, I'm going to assume that I am correct in my assumption." He raised his glowing scepter once again towards the old man, but this time, Zina was in the way, her eyes wide under her glasses and her chest rising and falling due to her quick, shallow breaths. "Now humans," Loki addressed the group, power building up in his scepter for the second time, "An elder, and a youth. Consider this a warning."

People think that your life flashes before your eyes in the moment before your death. Although, Zina begs to differ. What flashed before her eyes was something tall, muscly, and red, white, and blue.

"You know, the last time I was in Germany," Captain America walked towards Loki, who had fallen from the backfire of his blast, "and saw a man standing above everybody else, we ended up disagreeing."

Zina didn't know what surprised her more: that she was not, in fact, _dead_, or the fact that Steve Rogers had just appeared out of thin air. Though the scales were leaning more towards the not dead side.

People began to stand, to run away, to call for help. Zina whipped her hair around, tendrils of crimson hair flying every which-way. The old man had run off, it seemed, as did many people that had once occupied the plaza. She began to walk forward but hit her foot on something. She reached down to grab her Algebra 2 book from the cold ground, clutching it like it was a life-preserver. She turned her attention back to the god and the man a few feet ahead of her.

Loki quickly recovered from being knocked over, sneering at The Captain. "The soldier." He spat the words like they tasted sour. He chuckled as he used his scepter to help him from the ground. "A man out of time."

Steve smirked back at Loki. "I'm not the once who's out of time."

Despite the circumstances, Zina gave Steve a little cheer in her head for making a kick-ass comeback.

Suddenly, a whooshing noise could be heard overhead, and Zina looked up to see the Quinjet she had snuck in and out of about a hundred feet above her head. Zina could tell it was her sister's voice from the first word, and was all of a sudden grateful that she was not an only child.

A huge gun dropped down from the belly of the jet and Agent Romanoff began to speak over the PA. "Loki, drop the weapon and stand down."

A blue, for lack of a better word, _fireball_ was abruptly shot towards the jet, and Zina held her breath as the jet easily maneuvered out of the firing range. Then, everything seemed to happen at once. Steve flung his shield at Loki, knocking the god to the ground for a second time that night. More people began screaming and running away as Captain America ran towards Loki, throwing a punch. Loki blocked it easily, and both men simply looked at each other for a moment. Then, Loki jabbed the blunt end of his scepter at The Captain, to which Steve used his shield to block the attack. But Loki was a bit quicker than Steve, and he jabbed the super soldier in the stomach, sending Steve tumbling backwards and onto the ground.

Zina yelled again for a second time, reaching out towards The Captain. "Steve, no!" All at once, she realized that she was the only person left standing in the plaza, everyone else having run for cover.

Loki seemed to notice this fact too as he looked in her direction, stalking towards her menacingly. Zina seemed to freeze, her teenage mind going completely blank. Her eyes widened, causing her spectacles to slip precariously down her nose. The object in her hands suddenly became very heavy, and she remembered her 900+ page math book clutched, rather tightly, in her small hands. She looked down at it, and then back up at Loki, who drew closer. Realizing it was her best hope, she lifted the thick textbook above her head, ready to strike.

Although, her attack didn't go quite as planned. The sudden noise of Captain America's shield hitting the back of Loki's helmet made Zina startle violently. She dropped the book in front of her, thus causing the heavy reading material to land directly on top of Loki's left foot.

The god yelped like a wounded animal, kicking the book off of his boot. He whipped around to Zina, who was just as surprised as he was. He snarled, "You stupid mortal girl!", and promptly proceeded to backhand the teenage ginger right in the face.

The force of the slap literally knocked Zina off her feet, and she landed on her butt, on the cold, hard ground.

Okay, yeah, now she was angry.

She got up from the ground, determination written all over her face. Her lips pursed and her brows turned down, she grabbed her math book and walked towards where Steve and Loki continued to fight.

Loki currently had Steve on his knees before him, the bottom of his scepter pushing his head down. Zina crept up behind Loki, raising her textbook high.

"Kneel," Loki threatened in a deep voice.

Just then, Zina threw the book down on the back of Loki's head. Hard.

This action also allowed Captain America to twist so the Norse god's scepter was on keeping him down, and he stood up and kicked Loki in the face. "Not today," he promised, a bit out of breath.

Loki recovered quickly from the blow to the back of his head and the kick to his face, and was soon sparing with Steve Rogers once again. Zina stood at the ready, in case her textbook throwing skills came in need three times in one night.

Then, out of nowhere AC/DC began to fill the night. The Captain and Loki ceased their fighting and, along with Zina, looked up into the dark sky to see something, or rather, someone rocketing towards them.

Zina squinted, and then widened her eyes in surprise, not believing what she was seeing. "No way..." She trailed off at Iron Man knocked Loki off his feet, causing him to fly back a couple feet and his his back on stone steps.

Zina grimaced. That had to hurt.

Iron Man landed hard on the ground, knocking a few bricks loose from the plaza floor. He stood, and soon every gun and missile that the suit was equipped with was point directly at Loki, who sat helpless again the steps.

Zina, panting, walked slowly to stand in between Captain America and Iron Man. Steve looked down at her and discreetly grabbed her hand that was not currently holding her math book. He squeezed her hand reassuringly and gave her a small smile. Zina looked up at him. He was breathing heavily, too, and had a cut on his right arm. Dirt was smudged on his face and all over his uniform. Zina guessed that she didn't look much better. In fact, she could already feel a few bruises forming on her knees, butt, and a big one on the side of her face. But she squeezed Steve's hand back, if not for her benefit, then for his. He was probably having a silent freak out moment considering she was even out here. So she squeezed his hand to reassure him that yes, she was still breathing and that no serious damage had come to her.

Iron Man's voice brought them both out of their chick-flick moment. "Make your move, Reindeer Games." Loki slowly raised his hands, his battle armor disappearing, leaving him in his leather under armor. Zina could practically hear the smirk in his voice when Iron Man said, "Good move."

Steve was still panting and looking at Loki as he greeted them both. "Miss Romanoff, Mr. Stark."

Stark's head turned slightly towards the teen and the man beside him. "Cap'n. Warrior Princess."

Zina laughed once and then sighed, pushing her hair being her ears. She let a small grin grow on her face as the greeted the two men on either side of her. "Mr. Stark, Captain Rogers." As she gazed at a helpless Loki, a thought suddenly struck her head. She turned towards Stark, gesturing towards the captive god, and asking a small, "May I?"

He held his hand towards Loki. "Be my guest, oh great Warrior Princess."

Zina smiled sweetly as she approached Loki, the Algebra 2 book still clutched in her hands. The god's face scrunched up in disgust, but at Zina's continuous innocent smile, his brows furrowed in confusion.

Finally, Zina reached the foot of the steps and Loki began to speak. "You foolish girl, what are you-" The rest of his sentence was lost in a loud, quite girlish yelp as Zina let gravity take control of the book in her hands, and she dropped it on his foot. The same one she had dropped it on earlier that night, actually.

Her smile was gone, replaced by a sinister glare. "That's or bitch-slapping me, you great big bag of dicks!"

Zina made her way back over to Steve and Stark, breathing heavily. The latter was snickering like a school girl. "Oh my god, Miss Romanoff, that was perfect! Pure gold!"

"Thanks," Zina said as Loki continued to whimper. "Damn, that felt good." She suddenly felt a large, strong hand on her back, leading her towards the just-landed Quinjet. Zina could see her sister standing on the ramp, the most disapproving look on her face. Oh well. Zina will deal with her later. For now, she looked up at Steve, his mask off so Zina could see just how tousled his blond hair was. The super soldier looked down at her, in turn, and smiled. This smile reached his eyes in the greatest way ever. He started chuckling, wrapping his arm around Zina's shoulder. He squeezed her closer to him in a sort of half-hug. "You did good, Zina." He said, leading her towards the jet. "You did good."

* * *

**Oh god, I'm so so so so soooooo sorry it took so long for this one! Like I mentioned earlier, I had to finish up school and then I went on vacation with my mom. Also, I had major writer's block on this chapter. I'm actually pretty happy with how this one turned out. Hopefully no one was too OCC... anyway, I'm having a bit of trouble with the next chapter, so suggestions are totally welcome! The next chapter is gonna be when Thor, Tony, and Steve are fighting in the forest, and I'm not sure where I want Zina in that situation.**

**Also: REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! Thank you to all of you that have already reviewed, as well! To answer a question I've gotten: No, there won't be any particular pairings in this story, cause it goes along with the actual movie. **

**Hopefully, I'll have more time to write this, since it's summer. And remember: REVIEW! Love you all!**

**~Z xx 3**


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